A Little Bit of Crazy
by GypsyDaydreamer
Summary: SLASH. A collection of mainly Sladin drabbles with a bit of random people/Robin thrown in here and there to satisfy cravings... mostly slash with a pinch of general and nonslash... lots of fluff and a hint of dark, and of course the mandatory lemon!
1. Roughin' It

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Teen Titans! If I did, it most likely wouldn't be allowed anywhere except on late-night HBO...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So here I am, being a douche and recreating my collection of drabbles. Figures, right? Well, what was once **Deliciously Decadent Drabbles **is now... wait for it... **A Little Bit of Crazy**! Because we all need a little bit of crazy in our lives. -stare-

Anyway, expect all slash, maybe a teeny bit of straight-loving in the background, but don't count on it. It'll be mostly Sladin with a little Red X thrown in between and a few random people/Robin pieces tossed about here and there...

Now, to kick off this fresh new collection, I present to you, mindless sex with minimal plot!

* * *

><p><strong>Roughin' It<strong>

"I'm cold."

Robin looked over at Beast Boy with a raised eyebrow.

"Then get a blanket."

Silence.

"I'm hungry."

"God..."

"Yes?"

"Oh, you're _real _funny..." Robin growled, glaring at the changeling.

"Well, I _hate _camping!" Beast Boy groaned, throwing himself down dramatically onto his sleeping bag. "Why're we even out here?"

"We're not _camping_..." the raven-haired acrobat said, brushing a fallen leaf from his blanket. "We're on a _stakeout_."

"Yeah, well, at this point there's not much of a difference..." the green teen mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Quit you're whining," Cyborg huffed. "If anybody has the right to complain, it's me."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're _made _of nature, animal-boy. You should feel right at home in this wild-ass forest!" the cybernetic teen waved his thick arms around. "I, on the other hand, am made of _technology_, something that is _not _found in nature."

"Would you both just _shut up_?" Raven snarled, lowering herself from where she was hovering, attempting to meditate through the rather petty argument. She glared fiercely at the two boys, causing them to shrink back while Robin snickered behind a well-placed hand.

"I quite enjoy the camping," Starfire said, clasping her hands together. "It reminds me of the days back on Tamaran when we would travel to the glor'noff realms."

Robin looked at her oddly before shaking his head and pulling the hem of his sweater sleeves to cover his hands.

"I'm sorry you guys aren't having a fun, but stakeouts aren't _supposed_ to be fun," he said, glaring pointedly at Cyborg and Beast Boy, as Raven seemed to have no opinion and just wanted some peace and quiet. "Though I'm happy you're enjoying yourself, Star." The redhead beamed at him. "This is a mission guys, and you will _not_ leave me here alone in this god-forsaken wilderness."

"That's why you brought us isn't it? So you wouldn't have to suffer alone?" Raven raised an unimpressed brow at the other bird. She knew that their leader could have easily sat on stakeout by himself and merely called for backup if necessary.

"Yes," Robin deadpanned. "I love the joys of nature as much as the next guy, but I'm a bit spoiled."

"WHAT?" Beast Boy exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Do you know what happens to people who go camping? They get _murdered_!"

A twig cracked to their left, and Robin suddenly found his arms full of horrified Beast Boy.

"It's okay, BB..." the little bird sighed, running his hand soothingly down the green terrier's back. "It's just a stick. We're not gonna be murdered."

The dog remained firmly rooted to his lap, and Robin just allowed him to lay there for the time being, petting him gently to calm his paranoid shaking.

"How long do we have to stay out here, man?" Cyborg asked, cramming his hands in the front pocket of the hoodie he wore.

"Until we find out what the hell is happening at this factory," Robin said, glancing past the cover of foliage at the seemingly dilapidated building. "I got an anonymous tip that something shady was going down, and here we are."

"If this is a trick by some friendless teenager with no life, I'm going to be _pissed_," Raven said, wrapping her dark blanket around her shoulders.

"Yeah, me too..." Robin mumbled, hugging the green terrier close to his chest when he began to shiver. Beast Boy, feeling the older boy tremble, transformed into a shaggy Saint Bernard. His thick new coat provided Robin with more heat, but he was quite unable to breathe and move properly under the canine's massive frame.

"Oh, yeah..." he wheezed, draping his arms over Beast Boy's furry form in the hopes to get more comfortable with the beast curled up in his lap. "I'm gonna be _real _pissed if this is for nothing."

* * *

><p>"Rock, paper, scissors, <em>shoot<em>!"

Beast Boy groaned as Robin beat him yet again.

"Dude! How do you _do _that?"

"Maybe you should try picking something other than rock," the masked hero sighed.

"I would if you'd stop picking paper!"

Robin sighed again, this time joined by Raven, and the two birds looked over at the building they were watching.

"Nothing's happening," the young woman rasped.

"Yeah," Robin said, glancing over at his friend through the darkness. "You think we got screwed?"

"I don't know," Raven shrugged, raising the hood of her cloak as she leaned into her sleeping bag. "Perhaps it's best if we wait it out for awhile longer, just in case. Wake me if anything happens. Goodnight."

"Yeah, goodnight..."

Beast Boy, who was seated across from the Titan leader, yawned widely, sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Go to bed, BB," Robin murmured, pulling the soft blanket tighter around him.

"You sure? What about watch?"

"I'll be fine," the blue-eyed teen smiled. "The others are already out. You might as well get some rest, too."

"Okay..." Beast Boy yawned again and scrambled into his sleeping bag.

Robin rubbed at his eyes and curled into his blankets as he stared up at the sky, admiring the many stars and naming the constellations in his head. The stars were never this visible in Jump, the lights of the bustling little city always obscuring their glow, so Robin decided to enjoy the brilliant display while he could.

* * *

><p>After awhile, his muscles grew stiff and uncomfortable, so Robin stood to stretch, his blanket falling from his slim shoulders. He bent backwards, touching his hands to the ground behind him, and his graceful spine gave a few satisfying pops.<p>

Arcing back to stand, the Titan leader trudged down the little dirt path that was obscured from view and lead to the end of the cliff that they were encamped on. A few minutes of walking and Robin found himself at the edge. He plopped down, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them for warmth. He wished they had worn their uniforms, but his team, minus Raven, who never cared, had insisted that it would be too uncomfortable, and Robin had soon given into their wishes.

He had to admit though, that it did feel very refreshing to get out of his tights. He loved his job, but sometimes all he wanted to do was hang up the cape and be just Robin, not Robin, leader of the Titans. He even went to the point of stripping down to his skin when his teammates were asleep. As embarrassing as it was for him to admit, he did this every night, and it was those times that he felt most comfortable with himself.

Robin sighed and, suddenly feeling restricted, peeled his mask off. He set it on the ground and ran a hand through his hair, a few of the black curls sliding into his brilliant blue eyes.

"Hello, Robin."

"Oh, _fuck me_..." the teen cursed, rolling his eyes to the heavens.

"Don't mind if I do."

"_Slade_..." Robin huffed, ruffling his hair irritably as his archenemy sat down next to him. He angled his face away and down so his hair slid down into his eyes. "I'm not really in the mood for your crap right now. Don't you have some puppies to kick or something?"

Slade just snorted, leaning back on his elbows in a calm, laid-back manner.

It took a moment for Robin to realize that he wasn't wearing his usual two-toned mask, and he wondered if Slade was just looking for a peaceful resting spot like he was. He hurriedly memorized the man's features, taking in the surprisingly handsome face, from his strong jaw and nose to his steely grey eye and black eye-patch that shielded the other from view.

"Why are you not with your little friends, Robin?" the mercenary asked casually, and Robin blushed at being caught staring. He turned his face away, allowing his hair to obscure both his eyes and his heated cheeks.

"They're sleeping and I got fidgety..." the boy mumbled.

"Hm," the white-haired man grunted.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Robin snuck glances at the man from time to time.

"Am I really that fascinating?"

Robin blushed furiously until he thought Slade would be able to see his cheeks glowing in the darkness. He floundered for a response, and the man laughed at him. Butterflies flitted around his belly, and the small Titan found that he enjoyed his laugh. It was deep and natural.

"You are also quite fascinating, little bird..." Slade purred with a smirk, and Robin found his own lips also twitching up into a tiny smile. "Wouldn't Bruce be surprised to see his ward out camping."

"I enjoy roughin' it every now and again..." Robin grinned, then straightened when he processed the man's other words. "Wait, you-"

"Yes, yes, I know your identity." the one-eyed man looked at him. "Believe it or not, you aren't the only one who can do extensive research. Anyway, even if I hadn't known, those beauties would have given it away in no time."

Robin flushed and turned away, realizing that he had been staring quite blatantly at the villain. He mentally berated himself for being so foolish as to take his mask off, but a hand to his chin broke him from his musings.

"Don't hide from me..." Slade murmured, staring into his blue eyes with such sharpness that Robin felt as though the man was looking straight through him, uncovering his deepest secrets and leaving him feeling helpless and vulnerable. Slade's lips curled into a small, almost dreamy smile. "Nobody has eyes like Richard Grayson, the darling of Gotham City."

Robin blushed and withered, looking at anything _but _Slade, while the man just chuckled softly. He jumped when the hand that held his chin moved to rest on the back of his neck, and the Titan found that the mercenary had moved _much _closer.

They drew together, slowly, almost timidly, leaning in until they were breathing the same breath. The atmosphere became one of deep intimacy as Slade stared at him, baby-blue locked with slate-grey. He was so caught up in that deep, dark eye that he didn't realize the man had moved until it was too late.

Their lips connected in a kiss that could almost be called chaste. Robin was startled for a moment, frozen in shock until he gradually melted into the kiss, moving his lips a bit.

Slade traced his tongue along the teen's plump lower lip, asking for entrance, and Robin hesitantly allowed him in. He poked his own tongue out, testing the feeling, and, finding he quite enjoyed it, wound his thin arms around Slade's strong neck. Their tongues battled playfully until Robin submitted and retreated, coaxing Slade's tongue into his mouth.

The white-haired man leaned over him, one hand supporting his heavy frame and the other followed the curve of Robin's side until it came to rest on his hip. His thumb stroked the prominent bone, sending pleasant tingles racing up the teen's spine.

They broke apart when breathing through their noses didn't cut it and the need for oxygen became too strong. They were both panting, Slade hiding his breathlessness better than Robin, whose lips were swollen and red, eyes half-lidded.

"Wow..." he breathed, looking up into Slade's dark grey eye. "That was just... _wow_..."

"You're welcome," Slade chuckled, dipping his head to nip at his collarbone.

Robin gasped and mewled softly, squirming and tugging the muscled mercenary to lay on top of him. The man complied and settled between his legs, pressing kisses to his neck before trailing them back up to his lips.

"W-what're we doing?" Robin gasped softly, arching into Slade's warm touch.

"We're kissing," he said between nips and licks.

"Well, I know that..." Robin rolled his eyes. "I mean, why?"

"Because I find you to be extremely attractive," Slade said matter-of-factually, sucking a little bruise at the crook of the hero's slender neck.

Abandoning his attempt at finding answers, Robin relaxed into Slade's touches and urged the man out of his shirt and pants.

"You appear to be a bit overdressed, my sweet bird," Slade said, one hand moving down to rub the impressive tent in his boxers.

Robin nodded in agreement and hurriedly slipped out of his sweater, tank-top and jeans while Slade watched him, a wet patch forming on his boxers as he fondled his firm erection through the thin fabric. The teen gasped and goosebumps jumped to attention over the surface of his pale skin as the cool night air enveloped him.

"You are more beautiful than I imagined..." the man murmured.

"Y-you've imagined me?"

"Of course. How could I not? You are a absolutely gorgeous."

"It's almost like you planned all this," Robin laughed airily.

"I did," Slade said, his breath hot as he nibbled the shell of his ear. "I sent in an anonymous tip that there were illegal happenings taking place at this factory in the hopes that you would come here."

"W-wait, that was you?"

"Yes."

Robin lost the will to speak any longer as the man pressed against him and captured his lips in a searing kiss, all cares or questions of the false allegations fleeing his mind. He trailed kisses down Robin's flat stomach, hands sliding down his sides until they reached the waistband of his underwear. He carefully slid them down past his ankles, completely revealing the Titan leader's young, slender body, splayed out beneath him.

Robin squirmed under the intense gaze, and Slade leaned over him, kissing his plump pink lips as his large hands moved down to cup his ass, fingertips ghosting along the crack. He arched and moaned as a finger circled his entrance, the other hand curling around the man's cock. He coated his thick fingers with the sticky pre-cum that leaked from the weeping head.

"Such a pretty bird..." Slade rumbled, pressing a slick finger into Robin's tight hole, breaking a gasp from his lips.

"Oh, g-god..." the teen moaned softly, burying his face in the crook of Slade's neck as another finger slid in next to the first. They scissored inside him, stretching and feeling about. Robin's head fell back when the digits caressed that sweet bundle of nerves inside him, and everything seemed to just fade away, the edges of reality blurring.

Slade kissed him deeply, hoping to distract him from the inevitable pain as he withdrew his fingers and instead pressed his throbbing cock into the boy's heat. Unfortunately, it only worked for a second, and Robin cried out as he was filled, his entrance stretching and burning painfully. Slade froze, allowing Robin to adjust, and he didn't move until the hero signaled to with a hot kiss.

Thrusting forward, Slade aimed directly for the teen's prostate, blocking out the initial pain with a shock of pleasure that caused Robin to moan and arch beautifully. He gradually picked up a rhythm, moving in long, slow strokes. Robin quickly grew bored with this and began to push back against him, their bodies moving in perfect sync as the pace grew faster.

"Mm, S-Slade..." Robin moaned, his fingers curling in the crisp white hair at the nape of the mercenary's neck. "Nghnn... s-so good..."

The boy wrapped his arms tightly around Slade's shoulders, pressing his face into his neck and biting down, his teeth sinking into the tanned flesh. His fingernails scratched up and down his broad back as pleasure rocketed through him, leaving angry red lines in their wake, but Slade didn't seem to mind, just continued to kiss and suck at the bruise he created behind the teen's left ear.

He bent his head, licking at one of the boy's pink nipples. He rolled the nub between his teeth and breathed over it, letting it harden before doing the same to its twin. Robin gasped and squealed at the sensation as the man's hot tongue swirled around the hypersensitive buds, sweeping up and across his collarbone and neck to trace back over the shell of his ear.

Slade grunted and chuckled as he felt Robin's little hands slide down his abs, groping the hard, well-defined muscle. The hands massaged his stomach and chest, running gently over stiff nipples and back down, cupping his own neglected cock.

Robin threw his head back and allowed Slade to suck at his exposed neck as he pumped his dripping cock, using his thumb to swipe up the bead of pre-cum that collected on the tip. Slade raised his head to watch the blue-eyed hero lift the pearl to his lips, pink tongue darting out to lap it up.

Slade groaned at the wanton sight and bucked, a knot tightening in his balls. They drew up close to his body, pulsating in time with his cock. Robin's small frame shook underneath him, slender thighs trembling as his insides grew hot, his skin ablaze with desire. His toes curled and he cried out in bliss as he came, cum splattering against his stomach. Slade came violently at the same time, letting out a guttural groan a he released jets of his hot seed, filling his lover to the brim.

The two collapsed in a sweaty, shivering mass, Slade cradled between Robin's soft thighs and his face pressed into his pale neck. Robin's arms remained wrapped around his own muscled neck, fingers playing absently with his short white hair.

"How's that for roughing it?" Slade grinned, earning a pretty laugh from his new lover.

* * *

><p>When the couple awoke the next morning, Slade was still between Robin's legs, his cock nestled inside him.<p>

"Good morning..." the teen mumbled, feeling satisfyingly full and content.

"Good morning indeed..." Slade chuckled, pressing a kiss to the slim neck.

They lay there awhile in the cool grass, basking in the warmth of the now exposed sun until distant calls caught their attention.

"Fuck, it's my team..." Robin grumbled, unable to hold back a sad little moan when Slade pulled away, his flaccid cock slipping from his entrance.

They quickly dressed, and Robin felt a bit cold when he turned to leave, but a calloused hand on his wrist stopped him. Slade pulled him back, leaning down to capture those perfect pink lips in a long, passionate kiss. Robin's arms snaked around the white-haired man, meshing their bodies together. He felt Slade's hands dip into his back pockets, and he shivered as they massaged his ass.

The couple reluctantly parted, and Robin turned, hearing his team getting closer. When he looked back to bid his lover farewell, he found the spot where Slade once stood to be empty, and disappointment bubbled up in his chest.

The Boy Wonder shook his head and pressed his mask on, jogging down the trail and calling out for his friends.

* * *

><p><em>A few weeks later...<em>

Robin grinned as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, adjusting his boots and smoothing his sweater.

His friend looked up at him from their spots on the large crescent-moon couch in front of the television, confusion adorning their faces when they noticed his attire.

"Where're you going?" Beast Boy inquired, and the others nodded in agreement.

Robin grinned at them over his shoulder as he called the elevator, cheeks blushing a brilliant red and bright blue eyes sparkling behind his mask.

"Camping."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Could that have been anymore short and pointless? No. No it could not. But hey, it's a kick-off drabble, so your expectations should be low anyway! -dodges bullets-

More later loves, and as I said above, **feel free to drop me a prompt or request for anybody with a birthday!**

For every review, Slade hugs Robin!

/TS


	2. Bite Me

A/N: HA. Bet you guys thought I was dead, eh? Well, unfortunately for you, I'm not going anywhere. Unfortunately for _me_, my flash drive is being an ass and officially crapped out on me almost three months ago. It contains pretty much everything I've ever written, so I'm trying to find someone to fix it...

**In regards to Ashes of Paradise**, it will be continued very soon. I wanted to see if I could get my drive fixed in order to retrieve the beginning of the chapter that I wrote, but I don't think I'll be able to, so I just started it over. No worries, though, because I'm just finishing up the ending of the final chapter and putting on the finishing touches, then it'll be up, no probs.

Anyway, in celebration of Halloween, I present this horribly short, horribly _written _piece of humorless humor.

* * *

><p><strong>Bite Me<strong>

Robin looked up into the sky, thin rays of light streaming through the cracks between the wooden boards that were nailed protectively along the opening. His eyes fell, bluer-than-blue orbs watching blankly as the tendrils receded along the floor, doubling back in order to follow the sun as it fell beneath the horizon once again.

A shriek rang out through the night, shattering the heavy silence of the city. The hidden teen tensed as a few other calls rose up to answer the first, and he pressed his hands flat to the wooden barrier, peering through the thin cracks. The tips of his pale fingers slipped through, stretching out to touch the moonlight that dripped down from the heavens.

After a few moments of listening intently to the distant calls, the sound of his breathing nearly deafening in the darkness, Robin crept away. He shuffled around the room his he occupying in the once-proud, now-dilapidated tower, gathering his gear and preparing himself for flight. He had been taking refuge here for nearly three days, much longer than he ever dared stay in one place. His life depended on the nomadic ways he hadn't lived by since he was a child, but had adopted once again. One moment's pause could alert the creatures of his presence, and they would hunt him down before he had a chance to even realize his mistake.

Robin retrieved a battered bird-a-rang from the pouch on his thigh, secured by strips of fabric wrapped snugly over the worn grey denim of his skin-tight jeans. He jammed the pointed tip into the rusty lock that held the door firmly closed, twisting it around until the deadbolts within gave way and the padlock clicked open. It fell into his scraped palm as the chains it secured slid to the ground, jingling. He quickly gathered them and packed them away in his bag before slipping past the open door, as silent as the spirits of his city.

When had everything gone to Hell, Robin wondered for what seemed like the millionth time as he jogged down the silent street, sticking to the shadows. He couldn't take a single step without the fear of being snatched up wriggling in the back of his mind like a night crawler on a fishing hook. It was torture, the constant worry of being discovered, but he'd take developing a stress-related ulcer versus surrendering to the blood-sucking population any day.

He missed the days when everything was normal, when his biggest worry was what toppings to order on his pizza, not whether he'd be able to scrounge up a meal. He missed being able to walk out a door without ducking to avoid the grasping claws of a vampire, fearing for his life. He missed the feeling of his lips curling into a smile, the sound of himself laughing.

He missed his _friends_.

They had fallen fast, the Titans. Their meta-human bodies reacted badly with the venom. Robin had sat with them for nearly a week, caring for them in the Tower's med-bay in a feeble attempt to preserve their lives. Their organs had slowly failed, though, shutting down one by one in a painful, drawn-out cycle. He remembered crying every night for that excruciating week, hot tears a constant presence on his cheeks as he brushed Beast Boy's sweat-dampened bangs back or crooned soothing lullabies into Starfire's ear.

He suffered through the epidemic alone after that. The Titans were his support-system, his life, and he had no one once they had passed. He rarely made contact with anything but hungry vampires and equally hungry stray animals. The streets were barren and lifeless, the air still, as if Jump was frozen in time.

Robin was cripplingly lonely, and he was sure there were only a few mortals left in the city. The only reason he was aware of any other humans was by the one he had met almost three weeks ago. He was a tall, handsome male with rust-colored hair and mossy green eyes. He didn't remember anything significant about him beyond that. The only knowledge he retained was the feel of the man's thick, pulsating cock thrusting inside him. Robin could barely even recall the few short moments between when their eyes met from across that silent street and when they had collided in a crushing embrace.

Months without human contact could do that.

Robin shook his head, shooing the thoughts away. He didn't need the memories of calloused hands on his hips and chapped lips welded to his own to remind himself what loneliness felt like. It was a staple in his life, and he figured he should be used to it by now, but _wow_, what he would give for another night of affectionate kisses and teasing nips. Sure, his fingers were nice and all, but they just couldn't compare to the touch of a man.

The teen scoffed, realizing that his rationalization was like that of a lab rat choosing the orgasm button over of the food button and pressing until it dropped dead from starvation. He didn't want to end up like the lab rat he imagined, so he shook all thoughts of sex and anything related from his mind and instead focused on finding a new hideout before any vampires caught his scent.

Stalking down the street, Robin kept his eyes open for any signs of the flying beasts. He climbed carefully over a pile of rubble, his boots silent against the asphalt. His heart was beating loudly in his ears as his senses kicked into overdrive, calculating his surroundings and all possible escape routes.

Robin paused, the familiar stench of acrid flesh and coppery blood invading his nostrils. He slowly slipped a bird-a-rang from his pocket, wide eyes scanning the deserted stretch of concrete. His black hair swept over his forehead as a light breeze engulfed him, ruffling his clothes. A few papers and leaves followed, twirling through the air in little spirals.

A hiss grated to his right, and the acrobat lifted his head, meeting the sharp, dripping fangs of the vampire hanging above him. He wasted no time in tearing away, leaping over rusted, broken down vehicles and ducking under fallen power lines. The telltale flap of leathery wings told him that the blood-sucker was after him, and Robin willed himself to go faster.

He whipped out his bo-staff and spun on his toes, bringing it down with startling accuracy. The metal connected with the vampire's skull, smashing into its featureless face. It snarled and spit at him, mouth gaping and fangs glistening. It took flight, the thin membrane connecting its skeletal arms to its torso catching the wind. It flapped viciously, growling and keening as he struck it repeatedly.

Robin swung his staff, this time missing the airborne leech, and he was quick to pivot on his heel in order to avoid the nails that slashed past his tender belly. Keeping his weaker spots in mind, Robin traded his bo-staff for a few precise flares and simple fireworks he had stolen from a stand a little over six days ago. If there was one thing he learned during the epidemic, it was that vampires hated fire.

Striking the cylindrical flares against the rough surface of a bird-a-rang that had seen better days, the dark-haired human flung the sparking explosives at the blood-thirsty creature. They erupted on impact, bursts of fire engulfing the sickly grey skin of the sightless beast as it shrieked in pain. It scrabbled about on the ground, writhing and howling as its wings flapped every which way.

Robin used the distraction to run away, flying along the street and putting as much distance between him and the flailing vampire as possible. He could hear the cries of its nearby allies, no doubt coming to its aid, and the ex-sidekick focused his attention on the pounding of his boots against the asphalt instead of the dry crackling of bat-like wings and the spine-tingling snarls that tailed him.

Robin cried out in surprise as he was suddenly lifted off the ground, talons gripping the back of his tank-top with inhuman strength. His legs instinctively drew up towards his chest like a newborn kitten being picked up by his mother, and his hands flew to his belt. He dug frantically through the pockets (a few smoke-bombs plummeted to the ground below, but better them than him, Robin decided), searching for a weapon strong enough to dislodge the vampire's claws.

His fingers curled around a rectangle of cool metal, and the blue-eyed boy allowed himself a relieved breath before pulling it out and jamming it into the creature's ankle. Electricity sparked between clammy grey flesh and metal, and the skin around the tazer bubbled and blistered sickeningly.

The vampire roared in agony as pain flooded its system, muscles convulsing and releasing the captured bird. Its leathery wings flapped uselessly as they both tumbled through the air, Robin's screams mixing awkwardly with the blood-sucker's own surprised squawks. He twisted around so he was facing the ground, his cries being torn straight from his lungs and the wind bringing tears to his huge eyes. He grappled for some sort of hold, but he was free-falling, his only chance of survival being if he sprouted wings.

Unfortunately, this bird had no wings, so he instead settled for shrieking bloody murder as the towers around him became blurs of color like the smears of a child's fingerpainting. The wind pulled at his clothes, the thin fabric of his tank-top whipping behind him, and his boots felt loose and ready to fly off.

If closing his eyes and accepting his death wasn't surprising enough to the strong-willed hero, the arm that suddenly shot out from one of the surrounding tower's windows was enough to give him a heart attack. The arm wrapped firmly around his middle, and the momentum from his fall sent a horrible shock of pain through Robin's whole body as the breath was knocked from his lungs. As he hung from the window, as limp as a rag doll, the ex-Titan leader wondered how his savior's shoulder was still intact.

The arm pulled him back into the slowly decomposing tower, and Robin slammed into a solid chest as the air was once again knocked from his gasping lips. He remained still, listening to the mixed sounds of his labored breathing and the strong heartbeat beneath his ear. The body was warm and meshed well with his own, chests pressed together and legs tangled.

Once his lungs began to regain proper function, Robin pushed himself up, peering down at his savior. The man looked at him with something akin to amusement in his single grey eye, and his lips slowly curved into a smirk as the boy stared blankly at him.

"You can't go a single minute without chasing after Death's robes, can you, little bird?"

Robin blinked owlishly, red lips parted as he assessed the situation.

"Slade?"

The white-haired man grinned, a startlingly handsome expression that lit up his rugged face and made Robin blush. It was then that he noticed the two well-muscled arms still wrapped around his waist and _oh god, his shirt had ridden up and their skin was touching_.

"Red suits you."

Robin's cheeks exploded with warmth as Slade chuckled, and the older male took the liberty of smoothing the flustered teen's shirt, leaving just a strip of pale skin showing instead of the few inches that were exposed before.

"I didn't realize you were so coy," he said, grinning at the raven's scandalized expression. "Now, as much as I'd love to lay here with you on top of me, I think my shoulder was dislocated when I caught you. Would you mind?"

The boy scooted back, eying the offered arm for a moment before realizing that this was a once in a lifetime chance (he may have been in shock, but he was lucid enough to realize a good thing when he saw it) that he'd be stupid not to take. He easily identified the dislocation as being anterior, and he wrapped his fingers around Slade's arm. A quick snap of his thin, yet surprisingly strong arms and the one-eyed man had two proper shoulders.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem," Robin replied dazedly, climbing to his feet. He hesitated a moment before offering a hand to Slade, and he accepted, wrapping the bird's slender, pale fingers in his own rough, sun-kissed ones. Robin leaned his body back as the mercenary regained his footing, using his weight to pull him off the dirt-encrusted floor.

Slade dusted himself off, and Robin sneezed. The man laughed before sneezing himself, and Robin couldn't help the giggle that burst from his lips at Slade's surprised expression. Soon they were both laughing, adrenaline gradually leaving their systems.

* * *

><p>Robin wasn't sure why he was laughing, but in all honesty, it felt good. Being near another living, breathing human (he'd ignore the fact it was his supposed arch-enemy for the time being) made him feel happier than he'd been in a long time. The fact that Slade was a familiar presence was even more of a comfort.<p>

Calming his breathing, Robin straightened, a few airy laughs dripping from his lips as he collected himself. He brushed his bangs back, the ebony locks having flopped over his forehead and into his eyes, and he looked up to meet Slade's gaze. The man was looking at him oddly, his single orb steely and intense.

Robin blushed and looked away.

"I'm glad you're alive," Slade said lowly, surprising the boy. "I knew you would never go down without a fight, but I wasn't sure if you had perished or not in the riots."

"It'll take more than a hoard of blood-sucking vampires to take me out..." Robin murmured, suddenly feeling shy and self-conscious at Slade's compliment. "What're you doing here?"

"Besides making sure you don't kill yourself leaping from a vampire's claws?" Robin slapped his smarting shoulder. "Ow, nasty."

"Slade, seriously!"

"Fine, fine," the man soothed. "I was following you."

"Following me?" Robin echoed.

"Yes. I have been tailing you for the past three months," Slade explained. "I spotted you while I was searching for signs of vampires, and I decided that you were much more interesting than those filthy leeches."

"That's creepy," Robin deadpanned, but his lips curled into a smile without his knowing. "Yet somehow sweet."

"But in a stalker-esque way, I suppose?"

"Well, duh."

Robin felt the man's eyes on him again, and he met his gaze full-on. There was something in the air, something electric and palpable, and it made them both take a step closer. Their bodies pressed together, Robin having to crane his head back to look into Slade's piercing gaze.

"I slept with Red X," Robin blurted, and he slapped a hand to his forehead almost immediately after the words came out.

"Why are you telling me this?" Slade asked, bewildered.

"I just realized that the guy I met a few weeks back was Red X," the blushing bird said. "I should have known by his voice, but I didn't even realize because I was just so _happy_ to finally see another human being that I hugged him and he kissed me and I kissed back and _oh my god, why am I telling you this_?"

Slade blinked slowly at him.

"So you _see_ the guy and then _sleep_ with him?" Robin nodded, face still covered by his hands to hide his ruby blush. "But I save you from falling to your death and I don't even get a kiss?"

Robin's head snapped up, eyes huge in alarm.

"W-what?"

"I even dislocated my shoulder..." Slade held out the arm of said injured shoulder, obviously trying to look pathetic. While he normally would have been angry, Robin couldn't help but find the scene kind of cute.

Before he knew it, Robin was on his tiptoes, hands pressed flat to Slade's chest as he meshed their lips together. It was chaste and clear, but Slade quickly added his own brand of sin by slipping his tongue past the acrobat's wet lips. It was different from the kisses he'd shared with Red X, but it was just as good, if not better.

Slade's lips soon moved on to his neck, suckling at the pale skin. He grinned when Robin whispered his name, eyelashes batting as the boy melted into him. He pulled back from the love-bite he crafted, feeling a strong sense of satisfaction at seeing the little purple bruise adorning the Boy Wonder's pretty neck.

"Come back..." Robin murmured, grabbing the back of his head and pressing Slade back down.

"Patience, little bird."

"Says the one who told me I lacked just that."

"You probably shouldn't talk back to the guy whose teeth are at your throat," Slade chuckled, impossibly deep voice even rougher with both pleasure and amusement as he nipped threateningly at the little bird's rapidly fluttering jugular. "He's probably the one holding the cards."

"Yeah? And what're you gonna do?" Robin challenged, arching into him with an airy moan.

"I could always leave you to the leeches?" Slade smirked.

"Oh, bite me."

* * *

><p>AN: I should just be locked in a cage somewhere. It wasn't even funny. Or maybe it was, to those of you who are currently on a sugar-high? Oh well, at least it's not Twilight.

Happy Halloween 2011, you guys!


	3. Dog Days

**A/N:** Omg you guys, what am I doing with my lifeeeee? Wasting it, that's what. I had this totally epic dream once and decided that maybe some of my lovely little monsters out there would enjoy it as much as I did, so I wrote it up. It;s short and a bit rushed, yeah, but only because I'm trying to finish my Christmas drabble for tomorrow, but I procrastinate all day errday, so I'll probably end up getting it up sometime tomorrow night.

I'm actually on Christmas break now, so I'm genuinely donating the better half of my time to writing, which means more porn for you guys! Am I the only one excited about this? Am I?

* * *

><p><strong>Dog Days<strong>

"What is it now?"

"Man's mechanical best friend."

Robin looked up from the file he was flipping through, lips curling into a small frown. He closed the manilla folder, setting it on the couch next to him before rising and gliding over to where Cyborg was standing.

"Care to explain that one to us?" he inquired, and the other Titans nodded in agreement.

"Johnny Rancid and his cyber-mutt are destroying the downtown district," Cyborg said, metal fingers clicking away at the keyboard. He brought up the live video-feed from one of the security cameras located in the terrorized precinct.

"Lovely," Raven snorted from behind her book, rolling her eyes as the villain displayed on the massive plasma-screen ordered his metal minion around.

Robin turned to his team, thin arms crossed over his chest. His blue eyes shone with determination beneath his mask. If there was one person he hated, it was Johnny Rancid. The steroid-sucking biker took great pleasure in taunting him about anything and everything, specifically his height. Of course Slade was his self-declared archenemy, but the man had taken to flirting with him lately, and Robin would be lying if he said he didn't find the man attractive.

"We've taken them down before, we can sure as hell do it again," he said, preening. "Titans, _go_!"

* * *

><p>The street was in shambles when the Titans rushed onto the scene. The asphalt was dotted with paw-shaped craters and the majority of all the buildings were sporting crumbling foundations and shattered windows.<p>

Starfire slowed her flight, setting Cyborg carefully on the ground. She landed beside him, and Raven floated after, her cloak shadowing her form. Beast Boy, having taken the form of a pterodactyl, paused in the air above the teens, wings flapping. Robin leaped from his back, dropping to the street and tucking into a tumble to catch himself, bouncing expertly to his feet.

"Beast Boy, Raven, take out Johnny," he said, extracting his bo-staff from his belt. "I doubt the mutt'll be able to function without him. Cyborg, Starfire, you're with me." The boy gave a wicked smirk and the team dispersed with their partners, heading towards the sound of animalistic roars.

* * *

><p>Beast Boy smirked when he spotted Johnny Rancid tearing down the street on his demonic bike. He morphed into a cheetah, taking off after the teen. His green paws were quick to form a rhythm as he loped towards him, building up speed until he was sprinting and gaining by the second.<p>

"Hi," the changeling grinned when he was level with Johnny, running along side his bike, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from busting out laughing when the bulky teen turned his head to look at him with surprised eyes.

"What the-"

"Bye!" Beast Boy cut him off, giving a sudden burst of speed and veering in front of Johnny's roaring motorcycle. He transformed into an armadillo and curled up into a ball, bouncing against the asphalt. The front wheel of the bike rammed into him, but his protective armor deflected the blow, making it feel like a stifling pressure rather than a crippling pain.

Johnny shouted as the beast bucked, sending him flying into the air. He hit the ground with a deep grunt, his helmet nearly cracking with the force. His bike slammed into the side of a nearby building, the sound of crumbling metal set the air alight with noise as it wrapped itself around the brick. Its owner whipped his aching head around to gape at it, and there was a split second of absolute silence before Johnny Rancid's roar of rage echoed around them. He slowly staggered to his feet before turning to regard Beast Boy with blazing black eyes.

Raven materialized behind him, her cloaked form surrounded by a mass of pulsating shadows. She lifted Johnny off the ground as he lunged at Beast Boy, and he struggled violently in her grasp, kicking and snarling. She took care of him easily, engulfing him in a powerful bubble of magic, trapping him inside.

Beast Boy grinned.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Raven replied shortly, levitating past him with Johnny trailing behind her, banging his fists against the black energy as he shouted for her to release him. "We should help the others. They don't seem to be faring well."

Beast Boy hurried after her, eyes raising to lock onto the massive steel mutt that was currently trying to tear their leader to pieces. Robin managed to slip easily from his reach, nimble form contorting to avoid his swatting paws, but the beast's teeth caught him by his canary-yellow belt, flinging him up into the air. The bird flew head-over-heels, tumbling through the air before plunging downwards, screaming.

"Get him, Wrex!" Johnny crowed from inside his prison, and Raven made a point of shrinking the orb, squishing him inside.

"Friend!" Starfire cried in horror at seeing their precious leader plummeting straight towards the canine's gaping jaws. She swiftly weaved through Wrex's paws before shooting upwards, catching Robin mid-cry. She felt his tense body relax in her tanned arms, and he grinned at her as he pointed her towards Cyborg.

"Blast his legs off!" the masked hero shouted. Starfire allowed him to slip from her arms, and he landed next to Cyborg, who was powering up his sonic-cannons.

"I'm on it!" Cyborg positioned his arm carefully, and in just one sharp blast, Wrex's front left leg was on the ground, the shoulder-joint having been shot clean off by the powerful canons. The robotic teen quickly powered back up, but before he could fire, Wrex swung his head down, his steel muzzle knocking Cyborg into a building to his left.

"Beast Boy! Gimme a lift!"

The changeling nodded, transforming into a massive elephant and grabbing Robin by the waist. He wrapped his strong trunk around his leader's slim hips, lifting him up. Robin curled into him, tensing as Beast Boy brought his trunk back before throwing him, sending him flying through the air like the little bird he was.

Robin threw his legs out, catching himself as he landed on Wrex's back, the impact against the solid steel sending tiny shocks of pain through his feet and ankles. The robo-dog snarled and bucked, attempting to throw the teen from his shoulders. Unfortunately, the motion was not fully supported with one front left missing, so he staggered and pitched forward, his metal muzzle slamming into the asphalt.

"Yeah!" Beast Boy shouted, pumping his green fist.

Wrex's optics swiveled to him, murder blatant in there artificial depths. He struggled to his remaining three paws, fighting to regain his footing. He managed to climb back up, Robin clinging to his neck. He threw his head back, startling the dark-haired Titan into slipping from his back, flipping in the air and landing safely on the ground below. He reached a clawed paw out, the motion fast enough to allow Beast Boy a very small window of time to avoid the hit, a window he would be unable to catch.

"BEAST BOY!"

The world went black.

* * *

><p>Beast Boy awoke with a groan, his eyes clenching before slowly opening. He looked around, a mixture of confusion and worry bubbling up in his chest when he realized he was in an empty alley, laying behind a dumpster. The setting sun gave everything a warm orange glow, but it was a bit unnerving anyway, seeing as how there was no sign of his friends. They had been fighting Wrex and then... nothing.<p>

"Hello?" the changeling called, eying the mouth of the dirty alleyway.

"Beast Boy?" a familiar voice called.

"Cy!"

"Hang on, man, I'm comin'!"

The green teen listened intently, and he picked up a distinct clicking that was steadily growing louder, indicating that whatever was producing the noise was approaching. It paused before the dumpster Beast Boy was sprawled behind, and a moment later, a large brown Labrador appeared around the rusted corner.

Beast Boy froze, eyes wide.

"There you are," the dog said, tongue lolling as he grinned.

"Cyborg?" Beast Boy spoke slowly, and he felt dumb for asking when he noticed the mechanical limbs that corresponded perfectly with Cyborg's own.

"Yeah, man," Cyborg laughed, cybernetic optic glowing eerily in the dull light.

"What happened to you?"

"I dunno, but it's pretty awesome," the chocolate lab whooped.

Beast Boy looked down at himself, having not noticed his own new form after years of morphing between species. His body was boxy and muscular with robust shoulders and legs that were a bit on the stocky side. His fur was velvet-like and retained its usual green color. His head was long and sloped, fixed with triangle-shaped eyes and a Roman muzzle. He was a bull terrier.

"Dude!" he howled, hopping to his paws. He attempted to change back into his human form, or even a different animal, but to no avail. He was a bit worried about that, but his excitement overrode it. "This is wicked!"

Cyborg barked out a laugh and turned towards the street.

"Come on," he said, making his way down the alley. "We should regroup with the others."

"The others?" Beast Boy hurried after him, walking alongside his friend. "Are they dogs too?"

"Sure are," Cyborg replied as they moved along the street. His ears perked, and he let out a bark of greeting as they approached the site where the Titans had taken out Johnny Rancid and Wrex.

"Friends, you have returned!" a gleeful voice shouted, and a cocker spaniel bounded towards them, green eyes gleaming. "Is friend Robin with you?"

"Starfire, Robin is speaking with the police, remember?" a monotonous voice recounted, and the red-haired canine drooped a bit.

"Oh yes," she said, nodding slightly.

A tall, elegant afghan hound strode into view, her long, dark coat falling in a heavy curtain around her. She regarded them with blank violet eyes, her long muzzle set.

"Thank you for your help with the cleanup, Beast Boy," she drawled, her words dripping with sarcasm. "Too busy napping under an overturned car, I presume?"

"Behind a dumpster, actually," Cyborg corrected, smirking when Beast Boy gaped at him, scandalized.

"Dude!"

"Sorry, bro," the cybernetic Labrador said shamelessly. "Gotta side with Rae on this one."

"Whatever..." the green bull terrier muttered. "Is nobody worried that we're all suddenly dogs?" he asked, looking about at the different breeds that milled around the perimeter set up by the police, having taken the place of human civilians. "I mean, it's normal for _me_..."

"We're not really sure what's happening," Raven said, moving to stand beside Starfire, her luxurious coat fluttering as she walked. "I cannot sense any sort of magic, dark or otherwise, so there is very little explanation."

"Perhaps friend Robin could solve this dilemma?" Starfire suggested, and her tail gave a happy little wag when the others nodded in agreement.

"Titans!"

The dogs turned to see a gorgeous miniature collie trotting towards them, having finished conversing with a bloodhound and German shepherd who sported navy-colored collars adorned with Jump City police department badges. His dark fur was thick and fluffy, soft like down and perfectly groomed so it shone under the retreating sun's amber light. His eyes were large and heartbreakingly blue, and the thin line of velvety fur that framed them was tinted a whitish grey, as if he was wearing a mask. His silky ears bounced as he pranced along, as did his waving tail.

"Sorry I couldn't join you guys for the cleanup," the small-statured pup said, oblivious to Beast Boy's unhinged jaw. "Had to go over some stuff with the cops." His eyes trailed over to Beast Boy, and he cocked his head to the side, tail drooping slightly. "BB? You okay?"

The bulky terrier snapped his jaw closed, shocked by the huge baby-blues that the mini collie was batting.

"Dude..." he murmured, and Robin eyed him suspiciously.

"Okaaay..." the bird-turned-dog rolled his eyes before regarding his three competent friends. "Are we ready to head out?"

"Shouldn't we stick around to finish repairs?" Cyborg asked, falling into step – or at least trying to, seeing as how his leader was much smaller than him and had shorter legs – with the herder dog.

"We got another call, so I left damage-control with the police department. We have to track down Red X."

"What's that klepto up to now?" the robotic hound sighed.

"There was an anonymous tip that claimed he was sighted sneaking into the Milk-Bone storage warehouse down by the docks," Robin explained, breaking into a run as the scent of salt and seagulls grew stronger. The red collar around his fluffy neck jingled cheerfully as the yellow R tag clinked against the green buckle.

"Milk-Bones? Really?" Beast Boy asked the heavens. "This _has_ to be a dream."

"Keep up, BB," Robin called over his shoulder, scampering along the dock and keeping an eye out for the correct warehouse. He read each number, running until he saw the massive metal building that was the Milk-Bone storage unit. The other Titans came to a stop behind the dark-furred pup, gazing up at the looming warehouse.

"Should we scout first?" Cyborg asked, watching as Robin trotted over to sniff at the locked door.

"No need," he replied, looking up and scanning the rusted walls. Spotting a window that was slightly cracked, he hopped up onto his, standing on his hind legs with his front paws resting against the sill. He sniffed at this too, picking up a blatantly male musk that could only be the thief. "He went through here."

Robin scrambled up and squeezed through the crack, contorting and squirming until he slipped through to the other side. He landed on nimble paws, shaking his glossy fur free of any dirt or dust he may have collected on the way down.

"Rob, man, I hope you don't expect me to shimmy through there," Cyborg said through the window, peering in at the mini collie on the other side of the glass. "There's no way I'll fit."

"Oh, well..." Robin paused, and Cyborg could practically see the gears in his furry little head turning. "How about you guard the outside perimeter, then? Make sure there's no way for Red X to escape?"

"Sounds good, buddy," Cyborg barked, and he stepped back from the window so the others could slide through.

Starfire and Raven struggled to get in, but managed to with Robin tugging at their scruffs with his teeth, pulling them through. Beast Boy, however, was a different story. His beefy shoulders got stuck as he climbed through, and it took all three of the dogs inside, plus Cyborg pushing from the outside to force him through the crack.

"Oof!" the green canine huffed as he tumbled into the warehouse. He jumped to his paws with his regular enthusiasm, grinning sheepishly at the other three dogs.

"Alright, come on," Robin said, rolling his eyes. He turned and slunk into the darkness just as he had been taught, his movements fluid. "Let's split up and surround him."

"On it, boss!" Beast Boy howled excitedly, but a stern look from Robin quieted him. "Sorry..." he chuckled.

"Just move it, BB."

* * *

><p>The warehouse was near silent, the only sounds being the occasional creak of the wood of the boxes shifting and the calls of the gliding seagulls outside. The dull light of the setting sun streamed through the dusty windows, lighting little patches along the concrete floor. Four shadows moved about the place, closing in on the single form that stomped around the center of the building.<p>

"Ooh, daddy's gonna eat good tonight..." Red X crowed happily, pausing from stuffing boxes of Milk-Bones into a sack to tear open a cartridge, scarfing down the treats. "So good..."

"Mind sharing a few of those?"

"Heh, no way," the thief said, rolling his green eyes. The left orb was marked with a large white X, one line crossing from his left ear over his muzzle, and the other starting above his right eye to his left cheek. His rusty red fur was coppery under the minimal lighting. He froze, realizing he was not as alone as he thought.

"Aww, and here I was hoping you were a good guy."

Robin leaped from the shadows, plowing into Red X and knocking him over. The thief rolled and jumped to his feet, smirking at the hero.

"Oh, I'm not," he said, voice gravely, "but doesn't that make me all the more interesting?"

"Not really," Robin shot back, dodging the Irish setter's snapping teeth. He flew up onto a pile of boxes, climbing until he was above Red X, the big dog looking up at him for a moment before following. Robin heard his teammates running about, no doubt emptying Red's bag so if he did happen to escape with it, it would at least be empty of loot.

"Ooh, you wound me, puppy," Red said, voice lined with pseudo-hurt.

Robin rolled his eyes, ducking under as the red-haired setter snapped at him. This time, however, Red X followed up with a lunge, knocking the doe-eyed canine from the stacked crates. He yelped as he tumbled head-over-paws, blue eyes widening in alarm.

A muzzle shot from the shadows, catching Robin by the scruff and saving him from a messy death. He whimpered and instinctively curled up into a little ball, tucking his tail between his legs as his savior hauled him back onto flat ground.

"Careful there."

Robin looked up at the massive white mastiff, feeling fear rocket through him for a split second before he recognized the plain black eye-patch that covered one of the intimidating canine's stormy grey orbs. He hopped to his paws and grinned wolfishly, blue eyes sparkling at his mate.

"You saved me, Slade," the petite collie yipped, and Slade chuckled at him, licking his dark muzzle softly.

"It is my duty to protect you, my sweet mate," the snow-white mastiff said, rubbing their noses together affectionately.

Down below the couple, Robin could hear his three teammates snarling and quarreling, backing a remorseful Red X into a corner. Raven used her powers to lock him into a kennel of black magic, and the once-bird heard Red complain about animal abuse through the wire door.

"Thank you," Robin said gratefully, nuzzling Slade's face against his own.

"Aw, gross!" Beast Boy squawked when he spotted the cuddling canines, and he hid his face under his paws.

"What is wrong, friend Beast Boy?" Starfire frowned, having not yet realized her leader's whereabouts.

"Slade's licking Robin!"

* * *

><p>"WHAT?"<p>

Beast Boy jumped awake and stared confusedly at the Titans that surrounded him. Robin was crouched at his side, looking horrified with his hand outstretched towards the changeling's neck, most likely to check his pulse, while the other teens were standing around him, laughing. Even Raven let out an amused chuckle.

"Ow," Beast Boy stated, a steady throbbing beginning to drill into his skull.

Robin scowled at him as Cyborg only laughed louder.

"Why the hell were you shouting about Slade licking Robin?" the cybernetic Titan managed to get out between his chuckles.

"Oh!" Beast Boy exclaimed, remembering his unconscious adventure. "I had this awesome dream!"

"About Slade licking Robin? Gross, dude."

"Not _that_ kind of dream!" the green teen spat, faking vomiting. "I had this awesome dream where we were all _dogs_!"

"We were dogs?" Raven asked, cocking a single brow.

"Yeah! I was a bull terrier-"

"Stocky and ugly," Cyborg smirked. "Suits you."

"Shut up," Beast Boy mumbled before brightening. "You were a chocolate lab!"

"Awesome," the dark-skinned male grinned.

"And Raven was an afghan hound."

"A what?"

"An afghan hound! Tall, long hair, _beautiful_..."

"Watch it, animal-boy," Raven warned, snorting.

"Starfire was a cocker spaniel, and Robin, you were a miniature collie!"

Starfire, who wasn't quite sure what a cocker spaniel was, but was happy about it anyway, clapped gleefully. Robin, on the other hand, took the 'miniature' as a short joke and pouted.

"A collie?" he whined, eyes widening.

"Yeah! But since we were dogs and couldn't wear clothes, you had this red collar with your yellow R on it! Oh yeah, and Red X was an Irish setter-"

"Red X?"

"Red X. He was trying to break into a Milk-Bone warehouse."

"Of course."

"And Slade was a mastiff!"

"Oh, so Slade gets to be a _mastiff_ and I have to be a _mini collie_?" Robin huffed under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I am sure you were absolutely gorgeous as a miniature collie."

All the Titans jumped in alarm, while Robin just rolled his eyes.

"Were you following me again?" he asked, his smile dimming his irritation.

"Just standing by in case you need assistance," Slade replied, leaning down to wrap his no-longer-secret lover in his arms. "It is my duty to protect you, my sweet bird."

Beast Boy gaped, recalling the eerily similar words that mastiff-Slade had spoken to mini collie-Robin atop the tower of Milk-Bone crates. He was too busy being distracted by the relations to notice that Robin and Slade had just outed themselves to the Titans.

"And you sounded adorable," the mercenary added, smirking at his lover. He had meant it to be a cross between a teasing joke and a compliment, but the little hero apparently took it as neither of the two, but an insult.

Robin scowled before slipping from Slade's arms and firing his grappling hook, swinging off into the sunset.

"Looks like _you're _in the doghouse now, Slade," Beast Boy smirked, earning a smoldering glare from the man.

"Shut up."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hm. Well, it took me forevs to do research on what breed personalities fit which character best, and apparently that's all the work I put into this. See how rushed it isssss? Bask in the glory that is mini collie-Robin, because seriously, he's freaking adorable. I long to do art to go with this, but I'm so lazyyyy...

Reviews make me less lazy?

Maybe?

Mini collie-Robin will kiss you if you review?

Yeah?

Okay, maybe later. It's only a few moments of your time, after all.

_Review please!_


	4. Ho, Ho, Ho!

**A/N: **Hello again, my lovelies! So... yeah, this is my Christmas drabble (horrible title and all)! I know, it's late, but I thought I posted it on Christmas Day! Obviously not, and it took me three days to notice.

-herp derp-

Anyway, it may seem a little confusing in the beginning, but I'm sure your brilliant minds will catch on quickly. ;) It's split into quite a few pieces because the view switches from Robin to Slade throughout the entire thing... it's actually supposed to be subtly comparing the similarities of their schedules, but it's pretty much just running through the day, showing what each of our boys are doing...

So, all tardiness and idiocy aside, onto the drabble!

* * *

><p><strong>Ho, Ho, Ho!<strong>

The sun shone happily down on Jump City, its warmth disappearing beneath the winter's chill. A plow trundled along the street, pushing snow to the side as it followed its daily route. The snow shimmered, fluffy and glittering and _wow_, today was going to be a beautiful one.

Slade, however, did not agree. He awoke groggy and more than ready to climb into bed in fifteen or so hours. The bright sunlight, amplified as it reflected off the gathered snow, crept into his bedroom, seeping through the crack between his somehow-not-all-the-way-closed-even-though-he-could-have-sworn-they-were-last-night curtains and sweeping directly over his eye. Colors danced behind his closed lid, disorienting him and drawing a groan from his lips.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Slade rubbed irritably at his burning eye, wondering how the sun seemed to find him and _only him_ this early in the morning. He sat with his head in his hands for a few moments before sighing and rising from the warm, comforting mattress.

The man made his way down the hall of his downtown apartment, hoping to get a cup of black coffee in his hands and a plate of hot breakfast in his stomach. He decided coffee was the more attractive option, so when he reached the airy, well-light kitchen, he scooped a few spoonfuls of the crushed beans into a filter and slid it into the coffeemaker. He switched it on, smiling as the machine let out a gurgling rumble.

* * *

><p>Robin draped himself over the marble countertop, enjoying the purr of the coffeemaker, the promise of consciousness in a cup. He sighed and held his mug between his hands, eagerly awaiting the cheery ping that indicated a full coffeepot. The thick, earthy smell filled the early morning, a comfortingly warm aroma against the snow-scented chill that he knew lurked outside. Snow was rare in California, but when it did grace the the west coast with its presence, it didn't disappoint.<p>

The teen dozed against the kitchen counter, forehead pressed to the smooth surface and ass displayed as gravity tugged his spine into a downward arc. His arms shifted, bent on either side of his head, fingers wrapped around the cool porcelain of his Superman mug and subconscious aching for the sweet sting of sugary caffeine.

The coffeemaker gave a shrill chime, startling the sleepy bird. Robin lazily grabbed the heated plastic handle and poured the coffee into his mug, smiling in satisfaction. He expertly stirred in a copious amount of sugar and vanilla creamer, mixing the caramel-brown mixture before lifting it to his lips, cradling the warm ceramic. The temperature sent goosebumps racing over his skin, his bare limbs suddenly experiencing the slightly cool air of the Tower now that his hands had a source of heat.

* * *

><p>Having placed his mug in the dishwasher and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a muscle-shirt, Slade made his way downstairs. He had bought out the entire apartment building and emptied it so he would never be disturbed or have to worry about someone coming across his 'work'. It proved quite useful and effective as a solitary workplace when he didn't want to be found by a certain curious bird.<p>

Slade grabbed a towel from a closet along the way to the gym, which took up most of the floor beneath his main living space. It was furnished with enough exercise equipment to suit an Olympic trainee, along with a well-sized indoor track for when he didn't feel like running on a treadmill. The remaining space was split into a small locker room and a storage space where he kept spare equipment and various small training devices.

The man tossed the towel onto the floor by the bench press before stretching a bit. He warmed up his arms and legs, working the muscles before laying back on the bench and wrapping his fingers firmly around the textured metal of the barbell.

* * *

><p>Robin danced lightly on his toes as he tightened the athletic tape around his fingers, wrists and palms. He tied the fabric off and tugged lightly to ensure it would stay put before bending forward, pressing his hands firmly to the floor as his perky backside, clothed in a pair of black spandex shorts, swung out. He rested there for a few minutes, face between his calves, feeling the muscles along the backs of his knees and thighs loosen and warm.<p>

Reaching upwards, his droopy grey Gotham Knights hoodie lifting to reveal a bit of his flat belly, he wiggled his fingers towards the sky before stretching to one side, then the other. The masked hero's body hummed pleasantly as he pitched forward, hands bracing against the floor as he fell into a tumble, bouncing easily to his feet.

Grinning, Robin checked the laces of his running shoes and popped his ear-buds into place. He cranked the volume of his iPod up before taking off around the Tower's indoor track.

* * *

><p>Slade wiped the sweat from his brow, gripping each end of the white towel that hung around his neck. He was hot and more than ready for a shower, having diligently worked each muscle group before calling it quits. He had ditched his shirt long ago, but he still felt as though it was there, sticking to his sweaty skin.<p>

The one-eyed man pushed the swinging door open and walked into the locker room, his bare feet protesting at the icy bite of the tiled floor. He dropped the sweat-dampened towel on the wooden bench as he passed, sweatpants also falling away and revealing the hard, bulging body that he so carefully worked for. His erection also sprang forth from its cloth confines, having been coaxed to life by the adrenaline that accompanied his rigorous workout.

He stepped into the shower, twisting the knob and cursing as he was drenched with freezing water. He waited a few minutes for it to warm, the shocking cold doing little to lessen his arousal. He grabbed hold of his length, giving a firm tug as the gradually heating water ran down his sun-kissed skin. He squeezed the base, the hard callouses of his fingers producing a pleasant friction that made his balls tighten with need.

Slade grunted as he bucked into his fist, imagining his sweet little bird before him, sprawled out and as ready to be taken as a two-cent prostitute. He allowed his hand to veer off track, instead moving from his bobbing cock to his heavy balls, fondling and squeezing the sac as Robin's imaginary hands took over working on his manhood.

He pictured the hero leaning in close, hot breath rolling over the engorged head of his swelling cock. His pretty lips would stretch over the velvety skin, swallowing him whole and moaning wantonly as he arched, thrusting his ass out. His hands would shift, gripping the base where his mouth couldn't reach and squeezing tightly.

Slade groaned, fisting his cock with thick fingers. He moved in long, tight strokes, foreskin folding as his digits ran over it. He prodded the slit, white pre-cum smearing over the head. He pressed his left hand to the shower wall, bowing his head as he worked furiously on his needy manhood.

"Fuuuck..." the mercenary growled into the steamy air, his balls tightening to the point where it almost hurt.

Imaginary-Robin grinned up at him, lips stained with cum and bare skin flushed from arousal and the hot water that rolled down each and every contour of his perfect body. He replaced his lips, suckling greedily at Slade's cock until the man was sure his soul was being drawn through his slit. He thrust into the warm mouth, breathing ragged and voice gravely.

Slade came silently, eye clenching closed as he shot rope after rope of creamy cum onto the shower wall. His hand continued to stroke his pulsating cock, milking himself until his balls felt as though they were the size of grapes. A few weak spurts dribbled over his fingers, and he looked at his sticky hand for a moment, wishing imaginary-Robin was still there to lick it off before sticking his hand under the shower's spray, washing it down the drain.

The white-haired man sighed in satisfaction as he stepped back under the water, his seed still dripping slowly down the tile of the shower wall.

* * *

><p>Ruffling his damp hair with a clean towel, Robin strode down the hall towards the Tower's dorms, fantasies of a hot shower and his sweetly scented soaps present in his head. He punched in the password to his bedroom, stepping inside and feeling the light <em>whoosh<em> of air as it closed behind him.

His bedroom was large and well-lit, the far wall constructed entirely of glass. The wall directly across from the door was dedicated to his massive canopy bed, which Robin could swear was the best purchase of his entire life. Bruce had called it superfluous, but it was a third of his life, the boy reasoned, and he was going to spend that third in the lap of luxury. The fact was a wonderful plus for Robin, but unfortunate for his poor credit card, or more so Bruce, who payed the _bills_ of said credit card.

Robin sighed as he shuffled into his private bathroom, lavishly decorated in black and white and decked out with a jacuzzi tub and glass-paned shower. He kicked off his shoes and socks before he stripped off his hoodie and shorts, leaving them in a trail behind him like the breadcrumbs of Hansel and Gretel. He debated between using the shower or the tub, but settled on the big shower. As much as he would have loved to soak in warm water with bath oils and bubbles, he had things to do and places to be.

The teen flicked the handle up, the shower head hissing before cool water sprayed over the black tile. He inspected himself in the mirror while he waited for the water to warm up, absently running his hands along his skin and turning around to look at his backside.

"Not bad..." Robin murmured as he squeezed the perfect, supple cheeks of his ass, appreciating it and hoping his exercise routine wouldn't shrink the comfortingly round globes. They were an important part of his man-eater charm.

The Titan leader rolled his eyes and stuck his fingers under the shower's spray, testing the temperature. After deeming the water warm enough for his tastes, he stepped inside, smiling and smoothing his bangs back from his face. He thought about how he would workout tomorrow, if he would head for the balance beams or max out the battle simulator. The simulator would be a nice change, the teen decided. He was a master in hand-to-hand combat, but there was always room for growth, especially with villains like Slade around.

Though the man was his self-declared archenemy, the thought of him made Robin's body purr with arousal. It was the combination of that massive, muscle-bound body and rich, gravely voice that drove him wild. He had spent countless nights wondering what it would be like to touch Slade. Would his hands be calloused, rough against his skin? Were his lips chapped, having been licked one too many times as he toiled over his next plot? Was his cock as big as he imagined, hard and straining against black Kevlar?

Robin bit his lip, allowing a hand to slide down his chest and belly, ignoring the softness of his fingers and pretending it was Slade's large digits. He caressed his sensitive nipples, the pink buds hardening under the careful administrations and drawing a mewl from his lips. He trailed his hands down from his nipples to his stomach, ghosting fingers over his bellybutton, the feather-light touch and excitement of what he knew would come next making the muscles beneath tremble.

The teen let out a gasp as he wrapped a hand around his throbbing cock, giving a gentle squeeze at the head before sliding downward. His other hand moved to his thigh, feeling each and every inch of the soft, flushed skin as he slid down the tiled wall to the shower floor. He rubbed and prodded until he reached his wet entrance, the ring of muscle fluttering in anticipation.

The water from the shower head fell around him, dripping down the delicate planes of his body as he felt himself, hot and tight. Robin dropped his head back against the wall as he slipped a finger into himself. One digit was nice, he knew, but two was better. A second slid in next to the first, stretching and feeling until he found that perfect spot and _wow_.

Robin cried out as he curled his fingers against his prostate, left hand moving steadily along the length of his leaking cock. He thrust his fingers deeper until he could reach no further, and the flustered bird felt a twinge of disappointment. He was too far into the ritual now to get up and choose a toy from the private box he kept hidden beneath his bed, so his own fingers would have to do, much to Robin's chagrin.

"Y-yeah..." the Titan leader gasped, his lashes, thick and dark from the tiny droplets that clung to them, batting as he imagined Slade inside him, huge and pulsating, balls set flush to his ass. His fingers pressed insistently against his sweet-spot, inspiring a particularly enthusiastic cry as pleasure crippled his body. "F-fuck meee..."

He could feel his climax rapidly approaching, feel himself teeter directly on the edge of oblivion, and Robin sped up his ministrations. His fingers thrust into his passage with growing desperation. His shaking hand stroked his borderline-painful arousal, pre-cum dripping over his fingers as the swollen head wept for release.

"Ngnn, S-SLADE!" Robin screamed as he arched off the tile, toes curling and eyes rolling back. His muscles convulsed around his fingers and his chest was streaked with white as he came. Pleasure tore through his veins, chasing any coherent thoughts from his head, and he fell limp.

Robin lay there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, cum being washed from his relaxed body by the gradually cooling water.

* * *

><p>Even knowing that the pleasure was self-induced, Slade had a grin on his face. He whistled as he strolled down to the once-lobby of his complex, dressed in a pair of clean jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Jacking off to the image of a teenaged hero – a teenaged hero who happened to be absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, in his own defense – wasn't exactly the bee's knees, but it was as close to Robin as he could get at the moment.<p>

Reaching the mailbox that was secured to the siding outside the front door, Slade opened the lid and glanced inside. Of course the mail wouldn't be here for a few more hours, but the newspaper was waiting for him, just delivered judging by the paperboy who was only a few buildings down. He grabbed the paper, but just as he went to close the hatch, an envelope propped against the inside of the mailbox caught his eye.

Slade frowned at the envelope, grabbing it and flipping it over in his hands as he searched for some sort of clue as to where it came from. Much to his confusion, however, there wasn't so much as a postage stamp. The smooth red paper was marked only with his name and address, written in spidery scrawl.

This had to be some sort of trap, Slade realized with a growl, and he tightened his jaw as he spun on his heel, heading straight back into the apartment complex. He locked the doors firmly behind him and marched into the elevator. He jabbed at the third floor button.

* * *

><p>"Fuck you then, I'll get it," Robin called teasingly as he slipped into the elevator, having argued with Cyborg about who would be the one to pick up this morning's mail. They usually had a system, trading off days with one another so everybody carried their own weight, but someone had taken the wrong day at some point, and now none of the Titans were quite sure whose days were whose. Robin decided to be the mature one – he didn't count his crude language against his maturity-points – and start the system anew, claiming Saturday as his own.<p>

Robin took the elevator to the underground garage and glided over to his beloved bike. He slipped his helmet on and straddled the metal machine, bringing it to life and feeling it purr beneath him. A wonderful feeling, he thought as he took off towards the post office, the wind causing his cape to billow out behind him, black giving way to canary-yellow every now and again.

People waved as he passed down the freshly plowed streets, many of them having their arms full with bags and boxes, no doubt finishing some last-minute Christmas shopping. Robin had completed his own, his entire closet now stuffed with gifts he had spent hours searching for, just to know he would be treating his beloved teammates to the best. Hell, he had even had to throw all his clothes out onto the floor because he couldn't get to them without causing a miniature avalanche, an experience he had no desire to repeat.

He turned the corner to the post office, slowing and sliding easily into a parking spot. The teen popped out the kickstand and pulled his helmet off, his wispy raven locks curling and flying every which-way. He hopped off his bike and set his helmet on the seat before strutting into the building, smoothing his red tunic as he went.

Robin had actually expected the post office to be more busy with people scrambling to mail packages and cards, but it was rather tame today. Only a few people were present, buying stamps and checking their PO boxes. Apparently Jump was settling down for Christmas, which was fine with the teen hero, as it made his own job easier, as well as the post office workers'.

"Good morning," Robin smiled at the young man who was standing behind the counter, obviously trying to look cool for the Titan leader as he leaned against a stack of boxes. It must have been a rather dazzling smile, though, because the poor guy ended up tripping and knocking the boxes over, nearly face-planting in the process.

"Ah, R-Robin, good morning!" he stammered, flushing in embarrassment as he jumped to his feet, looking as though he didn't just eat shit in front of a famous hero.

"Are you alright?" the masked teen exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Yeah!" the young man said, waving a hand. "Just f-fine, Robin."

"Oh, well, if you're sure..."

When Robin turned his back to the older male, his lips curled into a smirk. Just a glance at his gorgeous face and any sentient being in the vicinity was clamoring to impress him.

_That's right, boys, line up._

Robin shook his head as he typed in the codes for the Titan's triple-encrypted mailbox. The security panel gave a beep of approval, allowing him to pull it open and retrieve the contents from inside. There was an armload of Christmas cards to various Titans, the majority of them for Robin himself. He preened a little at the realization.

The doe-eyed boy relocked the box and headed outside, stuffing all the envelopes, as well as a small gift box or two, into the storage compartment of his bike. He sent one last wave and flirtatious wink to the young man at the counter through the window – he mentally smirked when the flustered male could only manage a shaky wave and dopey smile back – before putting his helmet on and riding down the street.

* * *

><p>Slade frowned as he sat back in his chair. Countless x-rays, tests, fingerprint analysis... all of it yielding no results. Whoever had left the envelope in his mailbox was smart. One, they had somehow figured out where he lived, and two, they managed to leave not a single trace of themselves on the paper.<p>

He glared at the envelope.

Finally giving up and deciding that maybe there actually were innocent motives behind the delivery, Slade carefully peeled the lip back and peered inside. Alright, it was just a card. He opened it, seeing the same writing that was on the envelope.

He had to reread it nearly four times before he registered any of the words.

_Dear Mister Wilson,_

_Santa requests an audience with you at eleven o'clock this evening. Be there._

That was all it read. Sixteen little words and and underlying threat to close the line. Sixteen little words that basically told him to be at the North Pole to talk to Santa.

_Santa._

_SANTA._

"WHAT?" Slade shouted, chucking the card across the room. Being so light, it didn't go far, simply fluttering a few feet away, which only succeeded in pissing the man off more. He snatched it back up and crumpled it in his hand. "Somebody's a got a hell of a pair to be playing some childish prank on _me_."

The man grumbled to himself as he stomped back down his main living space, fuming. If the nitwit card-sender thought he was about to fly to the North Pole to meet a man that only existed in a child's imagination, then they were... well, a _nitwit_. As curious as he was to know who this nitwit was, he had better things to do than indulge some no-life prankster.

He tossed the card in the trash on his way out.

* * *

><p>Robin hummed to himself as he sat on the couch, the stack of unopened mail on one side and a mixed pile of cards and torn envelopes on the other. He shuffled through a few brightly printed cards filled with generic Christmas greetings before tossing them onto the opened pile.<p>

Now the acrobat truly appreciated the things that fans sent him, but sometimes it was easy to tell that certain people were simply trying to gain some sort of recognition from the famous hero. He was a teen idol after all, and many of his fellow teens wished to be 'something more' to him. He still wondered, though, why these gift-givers seemed to believe that they would somehow be bumped up on this imaginary list of top fans that Robin knew he didn't keep. The fifty-cent cards were nice, but he adored the hand-drawn cards written in crayon and little trinkets constructed of play-dough from children who looked up to him.

Having already analyzed the little box wrapped in metallic blue paper in his lab an hour prior, Robin read the little yellow tag tied to the silver bow. He smiled when he noticed the tag was his own R symbol, scribbled on a circle of paper. He opened the box to find a tiny version of himself made from clay and brightly painted in big, messy strokes that only made the gesturemore adorable.

Robin smiled and set it aside, standing it on the paper-littered floor by his mug of eggnog. He tossed the box to the side and set about reading the last few handfuls of holiday tributes, his gradually-growing-hungrier belly wishing for some of Alfred's amazing fudge. The sweet chocolate was absolute perfection and borderline orgasmic. It would no doubt be a welcome change when compared to his daily diet of pizza and Chinese take-out. When was the last time he had eaten a home-cooked meal?

Expression falling a bit at the thought of Bruce and Alfred sitting at the massive dining room table, feasting on golden turkey and moist stuffing and creamy mashed potatoes with gravy and _stop, stop, stop_. It was his first Christmas with the Titans, and Robin was determined to spend it with his beloved friends. Surviving an entire year together was something to celebrate, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to do so.

Looking around himself, Robin smiled at the decorations that blanketed the Tower. Green garland and strings of popcorn were tacked up about the walls, arching and stretching around the living room. They had gone out as a team and picked out a tree together, a tall, voluptuous pine that was currently weighted down with tons of sparkling tinsel, cheerily shining lights and ornaments that Starfire had conned them into making with her. On the very top was a big gold star that shone proudly upon the piles of presents beneath the tree's hefty branches.

It was beautiful, Robin decided.

* * *

><p>Slade didn't hate Christmas, really he didn't, but he <em>did<em> hate all the gaudy decorations. Inflatable snowmen, plastic reindeer, light-up Santas... the festivity of it all made him want to shoot his remaining eye out. Hell, it wasn't even the _festivity _that got him. Being in the Christmas spirit was perfectly fine, it was the fact that everybody seemed to lose their fucking minds and begin to rationalize that lighting their houses up enough to blind passerby cars and set vampires aflame was the _only_ form of Christmas spirit.

Across the street, a giant Santa waved at him, its plastic face set in a rosy-cheeked grin. It would let out a hearty 'ho, ho, ho!' every now and again, making Slade cringe and sink further into the cushions of his chair. The repetitive sound barely made it through the glass of his windows, but Slade knew it was there, he knew what it was doing.

_Laugh it up, you mechanical abomination..._

Slade glared at the taunting decoration and took another swig of whiskey from his glass. The ice was cold against his lips, but the alcohol went down hot, a delicious burning.

"Merry Christmas..." he growled, sucking a piece of ice into his mouth and crunching it between his teeth.

The sun dipped beneath the horizon, painting the city a deep amber as the sky melted. The windows of the tall glass towers shone under the depleting light, reflecting and amplifying the rays brightly. The snow glowed orange, shimmering like miniature mountains of glitter. It was really a site to see, and it helped Slade relax a bit, the beautiful scenery distracting him from the waving Kris Kringle below.

Did Robin decorate, Slade wondered. It was quite amusing, imagining Robin sitting atop the tin-man's shoulders, pinning up long lines of tinsel. Maybe there was a big tree covered in ornaments and lights, some presents hiding underneath. Maybe the boy smelled of sugar and vanilla from baking Christmas cookies, a smear of frosting across the bridge of his button nose and flour dusting his cheeks.

He took another sip of whiskey.

* * *

><p>Robin laughed as Starfire crowded him, happily chattering on about the wonder that was Christmas. The holiday did not exist back on her home planet of Tamaran, and Starfire herself had developed quite an impressive obsession with glitter and lights, so Christmas was perfect for her. Knowing this, Robin suggested making cookies to leave out for Santa, whom she had recently been questioning her leader about. Of course Robin did not believe in the jolly man in red, nor did Raven or Cyborg, but they had discussed it and decided that they would pretend for the sake of their two youngest members.<p>

"It is the Eve of Christmas," Starfire exclaimed, hovering a few inches above the floor in her excitement, "so we must make the cookies of Christmas just as you said, friend Robin!"

"I know, Star," Robin said patiently, allowing her to take his hands and lift him into the air. She flew him into the kitchen, since he apparently didn't move fast enough for her. When she set him back on the ground, he tugged his emerald gloves off and instructed the girl to retrieve a few different sized bowls.

"I have never made cookies before, friend Robin," Starfire informed him as he gathered the necessary ingredients from the fridge. Robin smiled at her from over the items that filled his arms. "I am very excited!"

"I can see that," Robin replied as he stretched up to reach the jars of sugar and flour from the cupboards. Starfire floated over and took them down for him, setting them on the counter. "Alright, let's turn the oven on first."

Starfire turned the little knob, raising the temperature until it Robin signaled to stop. She flew back to the Boy Wonder's side, accepting the bowl that he handed to her.

"We'll make two batches so that we have enough for Santa with some left over for ourselves," Robin said as he set the glass jars of flour and sugar between their bowls. "You need one and a half cups of sugar." He showed her the little numbers on the handle of the measuring scoops, explaining that each held a different amount.

"I do not use these," Starfire commented as they each dumped their sugar in their bowls. "I just look and use what is needed." She broke into a wide smile before adding, "I like this better."

"I guess too," Robin said. He had given her the measuring scoops, while he himself used his hands to estimate the amount. "I used to bake so much with my mother," Starfire listened intently, as it was a very rare treat for Robin to speak of his past and family, "so I've gotten really good at using my eyes instead of measuring cups."

Robin grabbed a stick of butter to show the alien the little lines that divided the wrapper and indicated how much the stick was worth. As he helped her count and measure out a cup of butter, Beast Boy wandered into the kitchen, having followed the smell of vanilla.

"Are you guys making cookies?" he asked as he peered over Robin's shoulder, sniffing at the bowl of sugar and butter. "Can I help?"

"Sure," Robin said, and Starfire nodded enthusiastically as Beast Boy grinned. "The more the merrier!"

"What can I do?"

"Here..." Robin grabbed the jar of flour, along with the cans of baking soda and baking powder. "Measure out three cups of flour and a teaspoon of these."

Beast Boy happily did as told while Robin hopped up onto the counter, settling his bowl in his lap. He showed Starfire how to beat the sugar and softened butter together before he handed her an egg. He grabbed her hand and helped her crack it over the edge of her bowel before dropping it inside, along with a splash of vanilla extract.

"Now mix it," Robin said, moving his hands in short, quick motions. "You have to be kinda rough with it, but be careful not to break the bowl." There had been an incident or two where he had neglected to tell the Tamaranian this, and it had cost them a few new sets of dishes.

Raven wandered into the room and took a seat at the island, setting her book on the countertop. She didn't interrupt, as it appeared the three younger Titans had everything under control, so she just sat and read, enjoying the warmth and sweet scents of the kitchen.

"What about this?" Beast Boy held his bowl above his head.

"Mix it on in." Robin waved him over, and he and Starfire emptied both their bowls into Beast Boy's bigger one.

"Can we cut them out now?" the green teen asked excitedly, and, at Robin's nod, scrambled to gather the cookie-cutters from the cupboard above the oven.

Cyborg joined his teammates just as they broke out the frosting and sprinkles. He sat next to the silently reading Raven, avoiding the mess that was gradually spreading from their dough-caked hands to the rest of the kitchen. There was baking soda on the floor, sticky dough plastered to the marble countertop, sprinkles scattered about everywhere else... and that was only the room itself. Robin, Starfire and Beast Boy were streaked with flour, dough and frosting, hands sticky and sugar crunching under their nails.

"The bigger the mess, the better the result, I always say," Robin chirped past his bell-shaped cookie, his hands stained as green as his gloves with food coloring.

* * *

><p>Slade turned the last of the lights in his apartment out, scratching the back of his neck as he made his way down the hall to his bedroom. Clad in only a pair of plaid sleep-pants, he was ready to climb into bed and drown out the thoughts of the suspicious letter he had received with inappropriate dreams starring his little bird.<p>

Kicking his bedroom door closed behind him, the man fell onto his king-sized bed, kicking the covers around until they fell over his broad form. He curled his arm under his pillow and sighed deeply, his steely grey eye sliding closed.

His alarm clock showed it was a little past eleven, its red letters glowing eerily in the dull light. The city was settling down, windows darkening and cars returning home. The chatter of people and music from stores quieted, nearly silent save for the occasional bark of a dog and the dulled noises from the inner city districts that were alive with movement at all hours.

Beneath the usual sounds that lulled him to sleep every night, Slade picked up something different. It was a distinct clicking, like the sound of a dog's nails scampering against hardwood flooring. It continued for a few moments, steadily growing louder, and Slade blinked his eye open just as the knob of the bedroom door began to rattle.

Two dark forms pushed past, hurrying into the room and to either side of the bed. Slade was up in an instant, ready to snap the neck of whoever broke into his home.

"What the f-"

A pair of green eyes fixed on him and his face suddenly stung with the glittering dust that was thrown at him. The world began to spin, and the mercenary fought to retain his consciousness. It was a losing battle, much to his irritation, and Slade fell to his knees, leveling him with the mysterious shadows.

Just as his vision began to blur, the green eyes spoke.

"You missed your appointment, Mister Wilson."

* * *

><p>Robin yawned as he wiped the last of the cookie dough and sprinkles from the counter. His eyes drooped close for a moment, head bobbing, before he snapped back awake. He tossed the dirtied sponge into the sink before spinning on his heel and gliding towards the Tower dormitories, flicking lights off along the way.<p>

Punching in the pass to his room, the fifteen-year-old yawned again and trudged inside. He unclasped his cape and kicked his boots off, trying not to trip on them as they fell behind him. Next came his tights and tunic, which slid down his skin like water, pooling around his feet. His mask dropped somewhere by the nightstand, but Robin made no move to look for it.

Crawling into bed, Robin pulled the covers up to his neck, curling into the warmth. He cuddled his face into the soft pillow, one more yawn parting his lips before he was enveloped in sweet darkness.

* * *

><p>Slade awoke to a barrage of noise assaulting his ears. There was the sound of hammering, sawing, shouting and some sort of snuffling noise that seemed to be coming from directly above him. He slowly cracked his eye open, the blurry scenery changing until he could focus on the furry face above him.<p>

He blinked.

"FUCK!"

The reindeer jumped back in alarm at his shout, dancing on its hooves and snorting as it tossed its head. The bells that lined its harness tinkled merrily, attracting the attention of a few other presences nearby.

"About time you got up."

Slade turned to see two men talking towards him. It took the white-haired male a moment to realize that no, they were not very far away, they were just very short. Their heads reached to his hip, and they were dressed in varying shades of green and red. There were others like them, working and packing and generally just rushing about, jingling as they went.

"What the fuck is all this?" Slade snarled, pushing himself to his feet so he towered over the little men. "And what the hell are _you_?" He scrubbed a hand through his thick white hair before adding to himself in a disbelieving mumble, "God, there was a _deer_ breathing on my _face_..."

"We're _elves_, smart guy," the 'elf' on the left said, rolling his eyes. Those eyes, _green_, where the ones Slade had seen before he blacked out.

"You broke into my home," he said lowly, fingers itching to wring that little neck.

"It was the only way we could get you here. You never responded to our letter."

Slade stared down at him, looking very much like he had suffered a stroke. His jaw locked, teeth grinding, and the two elves exchanged a worried look.

"Jangle, go get the boss."

"On it, Jingle."

The second male, Jangle, scurried into the mess of scrambling elves, disappearing from view.

"The boss'll be able to explain everything to you," Jingle said, turning away and gesturing for Slade to follow. Realizing that he was well out of his element, the one-eyed man decided that, for now, it would be best to cooperate.

Slade took the time to look around, cataloging his surroundings and locating all possible threats and escapes. There wasn't much besides elves, reindeer and a fair amount of machinery, but one could never be too careful when in a foreign environment. He could tell that they were underground, judging by the low temperature – then again, he rationalized, they were supposedly in the North Pole – and lack of windows. There was a ramp that elves and reindeer weighed down with boxes were running up and down, and Slade assumed that they too were heading up that way.

"Watch it."

Slade ducked just in time to avoid getting his head kicked off by a reindeer that flew past them. The blond-haired elf upon its back shouted a clipped apology before continuing on her way. Slade could only straighten and blink after them, regretting his height for the first time in his life. The elves were short enough to keep from being taken down by one of the flying beasts, but Slade himself, standing at an impressive six-foot-four, was in danger under the reckless reindeer-drivers.

"You'll get used to it," Jingle said flippantly, having not even turned to see if he was alright after issuing his short warning.

"Why on God's green earth would I be required to get used to _this_?" Slade growled, throwing an arm out.

"If you can't handle the reindeer, than you sure as holiday won't be able to handle delivering the presents."

Slade stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Jingle's back with utter disbelief in his wide eye. Surely he had heard wrong. Three minutes ago, he had been completely confident that Santa didn't exist, and now he was being told that _he _was to take on Father Christmas' duty of delivering presents.

The man's brain suddenly seemed to be seeping from his ears, and Jingle turned back to look at his temporary charge with a raised eyebrow.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, eying him suspiciously.

Slade opened his mouth to reply, only to find his voice box inoperable. He could only gape like a demented goldfish while Jingle shifted awkwardly.

"Well, let's get a move on then," the elf said gruffly after a moment's pause. "We've still got to get you oriented and suited up."

"Suited up...?" Slade murmured, almost dreamily, as he and Jingle made their way up the ramp and out into the icy winter air. Snow fell slowly around them, making him feel as if they were caught in a snow globe. It was thick and fluffy, impossibly perfect compared to the snow that currently threatened a good population of the planet.

Jingle led them onto what appeared to be a landing-pad, fixed with lights along the sides and all. There were a few elves standing around, hands wrapped around mugs of hot chocolate, chatting idly as they awaited pending orders. At the end of the strip of asphalt was a sleigh, painted a vibrant red and lined with perfectly polished gold. Reindeer were being hitched to it, obediently remaining still while their harnesses were latched and tested for tightness.

"There you are!"

Slade turned at the deep, booming voice, only to be once again shocked into silence. There, right before him in all his jolly, belly-like-a-bowl-full-of-jelly glory, was Santa Clause himself. He was clad in red pants and a white turtleneck, along with a pair of black boots and matching suspenders. His beard was thick and stark-white, and his cheeks were round and rosy. His sparkling eyes were permanently crinkled from countless years of laughter and were framed by a pair of thin glasses. The only thing off about him was the wheelchair.

"What happened to him?" Slade found himself asking Jingle while the round man was still out of earshot.

"Freak reindeer accident," Jingle replied. When Slade shot him a disturbed look, he shook his head gravely. "Don't ask."

"I was starting to think you would never show up!" Santa laughed heartily as Slade and Jingle reached him. He was situated comfortably on a cleared patch of the runway, his cast-bound leg propped up in front of him. There were two elves at his side, short shovels in their gloved hands, no doubt to be used to clear a path to the little cottage that was twenty or so feet away so his wheelchair wouldn't slip.

"Well, I'm here..." Slade said, unsure.

Santa seemed to sense his hesitance and confusion, because he laughed again.

"Don't be worried, my boy," he reassured, smiling warmly. "You'll do great."

"Do great on what, may I ask?"

"Jingle hasn't told you why you're here yet?" He sent his green-clad helper a reprimanding look, but the softness of his expression and eyes didn't appear very intimidating to Slade. Jingle, however, drooped, apparently genuinely humbled by the look.

"He explained a bit..." Slade said. "Something about delivering presents?"

"Yes," Santa nodded, gesturing for a few elves to join them. They hurried over, weighed down with what appeared to be a pile of red velvet. "As you can see, I've hurt my leg, and it's gotten me into quite a pickle. I couldn't possibly drive my sleigh like this, so I had to find someone to do it for me."

"And that someone is me, I presume?"

"Good, lad!" Santa chuckled, belly bouncing.

"But why me, sir?" Sade almost couldn't believe he was speaking to Kris Kringle himself, let alone being told he was to adopt his responsibilities for the night.

"Why, you need some Christmas spirit, my dear boy!" the bearded man exclaimed, as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet. "You spend the holiday season moping around. No tree or lights to be seen... not even a pinch of tinsel!"

"I don't have anything against Christmas, sir, I just-"

"I know, son," Santa said, gravely voice pitched low. "It must be hard for such a warm holiday to come around, yet have nobody to share it with."

Slade felt a defensive prickle in his chest that immediately translated to anger, but he pushed it aside.

Santa once again picked up on his shift of emotion, and he discreetly changed the subject by taking the red garments from the waiting elves.

"This is my suit," he explained, unfolding the soft-looking material and handing it to Slade. "It'll be big on you, but it's designed to act as insulation does. You'll stay toasty warm, even when you're in the chilliest regions!"

Slade looked the suit over before quickly stepping into the pants and pulling the coat over his head. Santa was right, it really _was_ like insulation. Just standing there in the freezing temperatures and he felt as though he was being warmed by a roaring fireplace. The bottoms were a bit loose, but Santa pointed out the drawstring and Slade easily hitched them up and tied them off. As for the coat, it fit well on his massive shoulders, but it sagged around the midsection.

"Don't let Mrs. Clause see that," Santa whispered, eyes crinkling with his smile. "She'll try to fatten you up." He gave a pat to his round belly as he laughed.

Slade chuckled, feeling a little more at ease with this bizarre situation. Santa – he repeated the name over in his head out of disbelief – didn't seem worried, so why should Slade be? Sure, he was in the North Pole, talking to Santa about delivering presents to all the good little boys and girls and _he was going crazy_.

"Alright, lad, let's get you moving!"

The man started as little hands began to push him towards the sleigh. The elves urged him up the step and onto the seat, which was ridiculously comfortably, and he sunk into it. He craned his neck to see a big bag crammed behind him, no doubt stuffed to the brim with presents for the world's children.

"If you have any trouble at all, son, the reindeer will help you," Santa shouted up to him.

"I'm not sure if-" Slade's voice was cut off by the lurch and buck of the sleigh as it began to glide forward. He hastily snatched up the reins, teeth clenching in alarm as they bumped along the ramp. He looked back to see Santa and all his little helpers waving and smiling as he rose higher into the air. He slowly turned back forward, eye wide. "Well, shit."

The ground below the reindeer team's loping hooves was perfectly white, dotted with clusters of pine trees here and there. Everything was white, not a single sign of other life beyond Santa's little civilization and the sparse trees. Fortunately, Slade didn't feel much of the cold, the fur-lined suit heavy on his frame as it shielded him from the wind. His fingers, buried in a pair of thick black gloves, remained wrapped firmly around the reins, unsure of what else to do.

Slade released the leather in order to slid his hands into the pockets of his coat, hoping to find some sort of clue as to what he was supposed to do. He couldn't detect much for sensation, but he did manage to grab the scroll that was rolled up inside. He pulled it out and untied it, spreading it out on the seat next to him so he could read it.

It was a list of names, he discovered. They were in alphabetical order by last name, but there were no locations or any hint as to where each child resided. He flipped the impossibly long list over, but the back was blank. How was he supposed to know where to go, Slade wondered.

"Check the GPS."

"What?" Slade's head snapped up to meet amused brown eyes. The reindeer were situated in rows, two of the magical creatures running side-by-side in line through the air. The one that he apparently heard _speak_was one of the two in the last row, closest to the sleigh.

"I said check the GPS," the reindeer repeated. "It'll tell you where we're supposed to go and whose house it is."

Slade slowly nodded, still staring at the _talking reindeer_ as he pressed the power button on the sleigh's dashboard. The screen flickered to life, calculating their exact location and marking the first place they were supposed to land at. He discovered that each stop was on a schedule that was also displayed on the dashboard above the GPS. They didn't go in order like the list of names he had found, but by location, so that he could move as quickly and efficiently as possible.

"Thanks, uh..." Slade paused, unsure of how to respond to the reindeer.

"The name's Blitzen," he laughed, tossing his head and causing the bells around his neck to jingle merrily. He jerked his antlers at the reindeer next to him. "This is my partner, Donner."

"Yo," Donner said shortly, his voice a deep, booming baritone.

"That's Comet and Cupid." Blitzen signaled to the two reindeer in front of him and Donner.

"How's it hangin', bro?" Comet turned to grin at him. For a reindeer, he was quite handsome.

"Hi!" Comet's partner, Cupid, greeted him, her voice high and musical.

"Then there's Prancer and Vixen."

The two grinned at him, though Vixen's was much more mischievous. Slade made a mental note to keep an eye on him throughout the night, because nothing good could possibly come from a Cheshire grin like that.

"Then way up front there is Dasher and Dancer," Blitzen said. "Dasher's our leader."

Slade nodded, impressed both by the fact that the animals could talk, and that they had their own unique personalities. It was quite astounding, especially to a man like himself, one who liked facts. It was rare that he saw something believed to be nonexistent, and when he did, it was taken as a pleasant change of pace.

The GPS gave a beep, pulling him from his thoughts, and Slade used the touch-screen to zoom in on their location. It was their first house, and the digital list highlighted the names of two children who Slade assumed lived there. It also branched out and listed what presents they were to receive. Slade looked back at the sack in the rear of the sleigh, wondering if he was supposed to dig through the the entire thing and read the tag of each box until he found the right names. The bag didn't even look large enough to physically fit enough gifts for the better part of the earth's populations of children.

"Just reach in."

Slade frowned and turned back to Blitzen. His brown eyes shifted past him to the sack of gifts, then back to his face. The man shrugged and reached back to mouth of the bag. He untied the cord and peered inside. It was full of brightly wrapped boxes and bags, each tied with luscious ribbons and marked with tags and stickers.

"The sack will know what child is being delivered to," Blitzen said as the reindeer began to slow and lose altitude. They circled a well-sized white house with black shutters and a rustic brick chimney. Its windows were dark, the inhabitants sleeping snug in their beds. "Just reach in and it'll give you whatever gifts you need."

Slade could appreciate that. He wasn't one for magic, but this was definitely something amazing. He held onto the magic bag as they landed, sliding softly onto the snow-covered roof. The reindeer snuffled as he leaped from the sleigh, their breath crystallizing and creating little puffs of fog.

"Now comes the hard part," Blitzen said. "You gotta slide down the chimney.

Slade hauled the sack from the rear of the sleigh, hefting it up over his shoulder and onto his back. He walked over, peering down the chimney and into the darkness below. He wasn't worried. Really, if Santa could squeeze his big belly down a chimney, Slade could surely make it too.

Forcing the bag of presents down first, Slade climbed up onto the rim and sat with his legs hanging inside. He looked back at the reindeer, who smiled and nodded encouragingly, before sliding down into the chimney. It was dark and a bit claustrophobic, but he managed to safely make it to the bottom. What was surprising was the fact that there wasn't even a hint of soot on his suit.

"Magic..." Slade shook his head, smiling slightly.

The man set his bag down and reached inside. The GPS had said that two children, twins, lived here, and sure enough, the sack produced their presents. Slade turned and looked around until he spotted the Christmas tree. He set the presents beneath it, feeling something akin to pride well up in his chest. He was going soft...

Just as he replaced the bag on his back and was about to try to climb his way back up to the roof, a voice echoed down the chimney.

"Hey..." It was just a whisper to keep from waking any members of the slumbering family within.

Slade bent down and looked up the chimney, seeing Dasher's face peering back down at him.

"What is it? You'll wake them..."

"I just wanted to remind you to eat the cookies," Dasher said, smirking. "And grab the card if they left one. Santa likes to hang them up in the workshop."

"Cookies?" Slade wondered aloud. He scanned the homey living room, and his eye landed on a plate of sugar cookies smeared with colorful frosting. He eyed them with distaste. The temporary-Santa never really liked sweets. That and they were made of pure sugar and carbs that would fatten him up before Mrs. Clause ever got the chance to.

Even with this in mind, he ate them, finding that they were quite good. There was also a card addressed to Santa, and Slade picked it up, flipping it open. There was a scribbled picture of Kris Kringle dressed in the bright red, fur-trimmed suit that Slade wore now. By his side were two little girls, each holding one of his hands.

Slade smiled slightly to himself and slid the crayon-covered card into his coat before reclaiming the bag of presents and shoving it up the chimney. He pondered how he was going to get his ass back up to the roof, but luckily for him, the reins of the sleigh flew down, almost whipping him in the face. He snatched up the last Santa-shaped cookie before he grabbed onto them and, with the combined strength of the athletic reindeer above, he was lifted to the surface.

The mercenary couldn't help but grin at the merry reindeer. That had actually been pretty fun. Then again, he wasn't sure if he would think so after a few thousand more houses. He made his way back around to the sleigh, tossing the sack behind his seat. As he climbed inside, plopping back into his spot behind the reins, he realized that his cookie was gone.

Vixen chortled joyfully, crumbs stuck to his nose. The other reindeer busted out laughing as they took off into the sky, and Slade scowled.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>When Slade landed atop the Titan's Tower, he was surprised. After checking the list, he realized that each of the teens had been made a gift for being so nice. That in itself didn't surprise him, per se, but the fact that they weren't considered too old to be rewarded by Santa did. He had files on each of the Titans – he knew his little bird's details by heart – and their associations, if they had any, so he was well aware of their ages. Maybe the annoying green one and the ugly alien were young enough, but the other three? He doubted they still believed in jolly old Kris Kringle.<p>

Shaking his head, Slade vaulted from the sleigh, boots clomping on the freshly fallen snow that he knew Robin would be out shoveling in the morning. Couldn't have a snowy launch pad after all.

The air trembled around him, silent save for the sound of the gentle winter breeze and the occasional honk of a faraway car horn. The snow was soft and crunchy beneath his soles, rubber sinking easily into the fluffy crystals as the extra weight of the sack was presents was added to Slade's own pounds. The moon shone down on him illuminating the tired lines that had taken refuge along his brows.

The Tower was the last on Santa's list, and Slade was thankful for that. His limbs ached from trekking through knee-high snow and sliding down chimneys. He had never eaten so many cookies in his entire life, and he was pretty sure the coat of Santa's suit was starting to get a bit snug at this point. He wished he had energy like the reindeer did, as they just blinked and snorted, tossing their heads as they danced on their hooves.

Swinging his tired gaze around the launchpad, Slade realized that there was no chimney, and he managed a small smile. He had encountered a good number of houses that didn't have chimneys, and he had been worried. That is until Dasher had informed him that his gloves would get him into any of the buildings that they needed to deliver to.

A snap of his fingers later and the door to the roof was unlocked. Slade smirked and began his walk down the stairs, the almost-empty bag of presents slung over his shoulder. He navigated his way through the halls, meandering along for a bit until he finally came upon the living room. Just as he had predicted while contemplating on Christmas Eve, the Tower's living room was well-decorated. The tall tree was dazzling, and there was already an impressive pile of presents on the floor beneath it.

Slade set his bag down and reached inside, retrieving the remaining five gifts. A moderately large box wrapped in metallic emerald paper printed with paw prints was first, and he tossed it under the tree. Then came a glittery pink box tied with a fluffy white bow that he could only assume was the ugly alien's. He placed Starfire's brightly wrapped gift – she wasn't even from this planet, so why did she get a present? - next to the changeling's. The bright silver box caught him off guard with its weight, and he slid it into place, mildly curious as at what the cybernetic teen received that was so heavy. Some sort of small toolbox, he guessed as he placed the witch-girl's box next to it. Last, but certainly not least, was Robin's, wrapped in red and green and tied with a canary-yellow ribbon.

_Cute._

Glancing into the magic bag and seeing that it was empty, Slade sighed. He was done with this draining community service. He didn't think he'd ever been so relieved in his life.

* * *

><p>Robin stretched as he shuffled down the hall, limbs buzzing as goosebumps rippled over the skin of his bare legs. His feet, clad in a pair of thick, warm wool socks were silent against the floor, his steps as light as that of a feline's velvety paws. His pulled his sweater, worn and droopy from use, tighter around him, eyes closing sleepily as he blindly made his way to the kitchen. It was just past five in the morning, and the Titan leader had awoken to a dry throat. Planning to make a cup of hot chocolate, he pulled on a heavy sweater over his bare torso and socks over his frozen toes.<p>

The doors that led to the Tower's living room slid open with a _whoosh _as Robin walked towards them. He paused by the thermostat, adjusting the temperature to a toasty seventy-five degrees to eliminate the chill in the air. He closed the plastic hatch and turned, heading towards the kitchen.

He paused.

"Oh."

There was someone in the Tower, someone who he didn't know.

The red clothes...

The white hair and beard...

The bag of presents...

Robin's eyes went round.

"Santa?"

The man jumped in alarm, whipping around to stare at the slender acrobat. His one eye, the other covered by a thin black black patch, was wide in surprise. It was a deep, stormy grey, accenting his tanned skin and stark-white hair. He was tall and muscular with a broad upper body and a trim waist that Robin was sure Santa did not possess.

"Uh..." 'Santa' struggled, and Robin blinked owlishly at him. The rather adorable action only made his search for the enigma that was the English language that much harder. The boy looked absolutely ravishing in a pair of slightly-too-big boxers and a grey sweater, hair mussed, cheeks flushed, and _holy shit, those eyes_.

"You're not Santa..." Robin said lowly, immediately becoming defensive now that he was actually awake enough to properly register his surroundings and realize that Father Christmas did not exist.

"Uh, no," the man said, shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet.

"S-_Slade_?" Robin's eyes widened when he recognized the voice of Jump's greatest villain.

"Yes," the mercenary sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Robin spluttered. "And why are you dressed like Santa?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Robin's brows furrowed as he looked Slade up and down. The older male looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped and his eye drooping. His forehead sported deep creases and his slate-grey eye was dull and tired.

"Try me."

Slade glanced up at him in surprise.

The Boy Wonder padded across the room and into the kitchen, signaling for Slade to follow. He hesitated a moment before trailing after, forcing his eye away from the gently swaying hips before him.

"Marshmallows?"

"Excuse me?"

"For your hot chocolate," Robin elaborated, glancing at the Santa look-a-like over his shoulder as he gathered two mugs. "Do you want marshmallows?"

"I don't need-"

"This can happen one of two ways, Slade," the ex-sidekick drawled, and Slade couldn't help but think that the fact that Robin's back was to him so he couldn't see his face made the teen seem a bit more intimidating. "You can either drink the hot chocolate, or I can kick your ass until you beg for some. Sound good?"

"Sounds lovely," Slade breathed, sliding into one of the stools along the kitchen island.

"Awesome."

Robin went about preparing two cups of hot chocolate, and Slade remained quiet while watching him do so. He was surprised that the fiery bird had yet to comment on the fact that Slade was not wearing a mask, but Slade himself was not about to poke at Robin for not wearing his own. It was, after all, just a little past five AM, and the Boy Wonder had most likely been sleeping.

"Here."

Slade looked up at Robin before nodding his head and accepting the steaming hot chocolate. As he wrapped his fingers around the heated mug, he caught Robin's own, their digits caressing accidentally. They stared at one another for a moment before Robin's brilliantly blue eyes flicked away.

"So..." he began, taking a seat across from Slade, his mug cradled in his slender hands, "tell me why you're here."

"I, uh..." Slade paused, unsure of how to put the situation into words. "I'm Santa."

Robin stared at him. A squeak bubbled up from his throat, and suddenly he was almost howling with laughter. Slade never got embarrassed, but he was starting to feel it now. This was the boy who he had practically worshiped since the day he glided into the city, and he was _laughing_ at him.

"You-you're not Santa," the raven-haired teen managed to get out between giggles.

"Well, not necessarily," Slade frowned. "I am only a temporary replacement."

"Replacement?" Robin raised a brow, crystalline eyes half-lidded.

"Yes," the one-eyed male said confidently. "Santa hurt his leg in a, quote, 'freak reindeer accident', end quote."

"A freak reindeer accident?"

"That is correct."

"Well, _Mr. Clause_, I'll get you some cookies to-go, and then you can get the hell outta my tower," Robin chirped, setting his mug down and retrieving a large plastic storage container from the counter.

"I am serious, Robin," Slade insisted, feeling an intense urge to prove himself to the Boy Wonder. "The reindeer are up on the roof right now."

"Yeah, well, _my _reindeer is currently sleeping, so I'll come back to that argument when he wakes up."

Slade scowled as Robin slid back onto his stool. His stomach rolled a bit when the little bird pushed a plate of cookies across to him. He eyeballed the brightly frosted sweets, unsure if he'd be able to eat ever again.

"Aww, don't look so sour," Robin teased, grinning at him. "It's Christmas!"

"I know. _I_ was the one that delivered it," Slade deadpanned, earning a tinkling laugh from the lithe teen. The sound reminded him of Blitzen's bells.

"Why don't you go home?" the younger male said, collecting his empty mug and sending him a compassionate look that surprised the mercenary. Usually the boy wasn't so warm towards him. "You look absolutely exhausted."

"You have no clue..." Slade mumbled to himself before standing. He accepting the plate of cookies with a grimace and made his way back to the elevator, the Boy Wonder following. When he turned to thank Robin for his kindness, he found the teen blushing madly and flicking his gaze up to something beyond Slade's head. The man raised his eye and smirked. "Well, it's been pleasant."

Silently thanking the mistletoe tacked above them, Slade wrapped his free arm around Robin's waist and lifted him off the ground, holding him tightly to his chest as he crushed their lips together. He felt the ex-sidekick tense in his arms for a moment before melting completely against him. Slim legs wrapped tightly around his waist while two curious hands moved along his chest before settling on the back of his neck.

When they separated, tongues having been introduced and saliva thoroughly swapped, Robin's baby-blue eyes were glazed and Slade wasn't faring much better. He knew he shouldn't, but he wanted the teen. He wanted him so bad it _hurt_. The man tried to break away by telling himself he needed to return Santa's reindeer to the North Pole, _but those delicious hips were so distracting_.

"Well..." Robin breathed, wrapping his arms tighter around the temporary Kris Kringle's neck. "Ho, ho, _ho_..."

When Robin pulled him into another kiss, Slade swore he'd bring the reindeer back later.

Maybe in the morning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So this was supposed to be a cute, short little drabble for Christmas...

11000 WORDS LATER.

Ajklafalkrhs I don't even lol. This took me forever to write because I kept getting confused when I was figuring out the timeline... but it still happened, you guys (ignore the lateness)! I actually found the personalities for Santa's reindeer online, as weird as it is. I guess some guy like completely overanalyzed them and posted an article about it... well, kudos to that guy, because it helped me add depth to the adorable reindeer!

I hope you enjoyed it, and reviews are always welcome (they could be a Christmas present from you to me...?)!

Merry Christmas 2011, everybody!


End file.
